


Corner Table Boys Forever

by Leif Writes (FrankensteinsMomster)



Series: Corner Table Boys Forever [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: (it's not super detailed, Angst, Anxiety, Awkward Flirting, Bisexual Malcolm Bright, Bullying, Canon Divergent, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Disaster Bi Malcolm Bright, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Gil Arroyo Acting as Malcolm Bright's Parental Figure, Good Parent Gil Arroyo, Good Parent Jessica Whitly, Human Disaster Malcolm Bright, Jessica Whitly is a BAMF, Look. The Boy's Got Issues., M/M, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Martin Whitly is an asshole, Meet-Cute, Minor Injuries, Misunderstandings, No Homophobia/Biphobia, Papa Gil, Seriously don't listen to any of his advice, Teen Angst, Verbal Abuse, Vijay Seriously Saw Malcolm All Scraggly and Wild and said Yup. This one's Mine., Vomiting, anger issues, minor flashback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27222283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankensteinsMomster/pseuds/Leif%20Writes
Summary: "Is anyone sitting here?"The boy looked up at him, blinking."You don't want to sit here." He waved as if to shoo him away. "You're the new kid, right? Sitting here is social suicide."
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & Ainsley Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright & Jessica Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Martin Whitly, Malcolm Bright/Vijay Chandasara
Series: Corner Table Boys Forever [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987447
Comments: 13
Kudos: 42
Collections: Prodigal Son Big Bang 2020 - Friday Posts





	1. Meet Cute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Love_Me_Dead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love_Me_Dead/gifts), [TrenchcoatRats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrenchcoatRats/gifts).



> First and foremost I have to thank @Love_Me_Dead and @TrenchcoatRats for Beta-ing this thing. I'm very good at making the same mistakes about a thousand times in a row and this would be much less concise without you two. Any mistakes made are my own.  
> Also thank you to the mods and many other people on the BB Discord. I may not talk much but I love you all so much for being such lovely, supportive humans.

_Just breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the-_

“Hey kid, you doing okay,” he jumped, dropping the box he had been carrying. He looked at the man next to him. Soft eyes, brows knit in concern, a fatherly grip on his shoulder. Gil. It was just Gil. 

“Yeah,” he replied shakily and entirely unconvincing, “I’m fine. Just nervous.” He chewed on his lip, forgetting that it was still busted from the fight he had been in earlier in the week and wincing as the taste of blood filled his mouth again. Gil attempted to add the box onto his large stack before Malcolm pulled it from him. “I said _I’m fine_. I can carry a single box. I’m not that weak.”

Gil sighed. “Malcolm, I never said-.”

“You don’t have to say it. I can see it in your face. In my mother’s,” he snapped. 

They walked in silence before arriving at a door he quickly unlocked, threw his box to the floor, and stomped away to his new bedroom.

Gil whistled low, “Damn this place is bigger than my first apartment. It’s got a living room and everything.”

He flopped onto the bed. He knew he was being unfair and childish. Gil had done nothing to deserve this treatment. It was his mother that had pulled him from his old school and sent him to yet another boarding school, not Gil. She pulled some strings, made the right donations, and now he was here. All because of one stupid fight. 

It wasn’t even that bad of a fight. At least he didn’t think it had been that bad of a fight. It had all gone a bit fuzzy after Richard called him a freak. He didn’t know what about this time had set him off. He’d been called a freak, and much worse, hundreds of times before. All that he knew is that when he came to he was in the principal’s office, his body shaking so hard he wondered how they’d managed to get the handcuffs on him, a bloody lip, and scratches on his hands and face. 

His mother had been a whirlwind of fury when she arrived at the school, threatening to press charges, demanding her son had his handcuffs removed _now._ Gil arrived shortly after, taking him to the restroom to clean his face up and silently driving him back to the Whitly residence. Before he even had a chance to explain what happened his mother was there with her patronizing tone telling him about his new school and how much more prestigious it was, how much better an environment it would be for him. 

It would be no different than the last three schools. It wasn't the school's fault. It was him. He was broken. He _was_ a freak. He just needed to work on his impulse control. His only hope to make it to graduation was to keep his head down and stay as quiet as possible. To curl into himself until he disappeared. 

He recognized the negative self-talk. Something he and Gabrielle had been working on for years. It only took a moment of doubt to destroy everything he worked for and it was exhausting. He hated it. Hated himself. Hated struggling day after day for control over his mind and feelings. 

He shut his eyes, listening to Gil unpack boxes in the next room. He gave himself another few minutes to wallow in pity before joining him. 

“Your bathroom has a full tub, “ Gil called out to him in disbelief, “My apartment doesn’t even have a full tub.”

…

After all the boxes were unpacked and his new room organized, he and Gil flopped onto the couch.

Gil raised his can, “A toast! To new and better beginnings.” Malcolm snorted, rolling his eyes. They clinked their cans of ginger ale together. Gil put his arm around him, squeezing his shoulder. 

“I know you’re having a rough time. More than usual. I’m not going to make you talk about it but kid, please, take care of yourself. And call me. You have my beeper number and my house number and Angie down at the precinct knows to let me know if you’ve called-”

“Gil, I get it. I’ll call. I won’t jump into any more dangerous situations and get myself beat up,” he gestured to his bruised face, “I’m not too happy about this either, you know my good looks are all I’ve got going for me.”

The older man laughed. The mood had lightened and Malcolm felt like he could breathe again. He didn’t want Gil to worry about him. He didn’t want to think about why he started the fight or what happened. That could be dealt with later. Or not at all, preferably. 

He sighed, knowing it was getting late and Gil would have to leave soon. He enjoyed their last few moments together, laughing and talking about nothing important, pushing back the dread he knew would inevitably lead to a sleepless night. 

…

His alarm chirped and he wasn’t sure if he had actually gotten any sleep or had just laid in bed dissociating for the last six hours. Either way, he felt like garbage and was sure that he looked like it too. A perfect first impression for his new classmates. 

He fixed his hair, dressed, and swallowed his medication with the remainders of long flat ginger ale. He chewed a handful of skittles to calm his already queasy stomach. Candy was his comfort food and today he needed all the comfort he could afford. 

He was almost out the door, backpack slung over his shoulder when he decided to grab the book from the shelf. It was old and worn and colossal. It made absolutely no sense for him to heft around such a large book. He ran his fingers across the gold leaf title, _The Count of Monte Cristo_. His favorite. A book he could quote from memory after reading it over and over with his father. As problematic as it was, its weight calmed him so he brought it with him. 

…

After the initial introductions he was finding his classes rather boring and he caught himself nodding off more than once. School was a chore at best. He knew he was smart and that wasn't just an inflated ego talking. His intelligence was part of the reason it was so easy for his mother to get him into a new school so quickly each time. 

He would easily climb to the top of his class. He had been told over and over by over-eager teachers that he was full of so much potential and could accomplish so much if only he had any sort of drive. He didn't though. He was the best, but he did the bare-bones minimum to ensure he could get into a college of his choice. And after that, he would do... something. Maybe join the NYPD. He didn't like to think about his future. 

Once his morning classes were over he silently followed a crowd of boys he recognized from his class to the dining hall. No matter what school he went to, or what they called it, lunchrooms were all the same. Aesthetically they might have some differences but it was the same everywhere. Poor lighting, not enough seating, and students nicely grouped into their cliques. None of which Malcolm belonged to. 

He wasn't particularly fond of eating in the first place. He had been a picky eater before his father was arrested. The added stress had done nothing for his appetite. There were safe foods and unsafe foods. Logically he knew it didn't make sense but logic didn't give him the ability to eat red meat. 

He waited in line, grimacing at the food choices. They weren't bad. Just not what he felt he could stomach. After holding up the line for far too long he grabbed what looked easiest to convince himself to eat and faced the trial that would be finding a table to sit at. 

He just wanted a quiet corner where he could sit, eat his three bowls of jello, and read in peace. He gripped his tray and scanned the room. For a moment he wondered if he could just skip lunch altogether. His mother would find out though. She always had a way of finding out. He was positive she had paid the cafeteria workers to keep her updated about his eating habits. 

In the far corner of the room, he saw a table with only one current resident. A mess of curly black hair was all he could see as the boy’s face was covered by a large book. _Perfect_ , he thought. 

He made his way over to the table and sat his tray down, the other boy was so engrossed in whatever he was reading that he hadn't even registered Malcolm's presence. Or he was ignoring him. 

He cleared his throat. 

"Is anyone sitting here?"

The boy looked up at him, blinking. 

"You don't want to sit here." He waved as if to shoo him away. "You're the new kid, right? Sitting here is social suicide."

"I'm not here to be social. I'm just here to eat my Jello and read." 

The other boy snorted, laughing. His smile left Malcolm feeling dumbstruck, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest and heat rising in his face. 

_Oh no, he's cute._

The boy moved his outrageously large backpack out of the seat next to him. "Your funeral. Although, full disclosure, my dad is in federal prison and everyone here acts like I don't exist." 

"My dad's in prison too," he blurted out before stopping himself, wincing. "Not prison really, he's at Claremont Psychiatric Hospital." He winced again. "I mean he's done some _really_ bad things and he'll probably be there for the rest of his life." _Shit, shit, shit, why can't I stop talking?_

The boy burst out in laughter. He felt a tug at his heart. He was smart but had exactly zero experience dealing with a crush. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a crush on anyone.

"Well, I guess you're at the right table after all." He stuck his hand out. "I'm Vijay." 

"Malcolm Whitly," he shook his hand. 

"Holy shit your hand is so soft, it's like, a baby hand." Vijay grabbed his hand between both of his, rubbing it before suddenly realizing what he was doing and dropping it suddenly. "Sorry, I- sorry."

 _Cute and a complete idiot_. It was Malcolm's turn to laugh. At least he wasn't the only one with terrible social skills. 

He cursed himself for picking Jello, a food that was never meant to be gracefully eaten. 

They sat together in comfortable silence for the remainder of their lunch, stealing glances at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. Malcolm's heart was pounding and for once it had nothing to do with his usual anxiety and everything to do with the boy with the cute smile sitting next to him.


	2. Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm thought back to everything he had done in the last two weeks that would have labeled him a freak. He had tried his best to blend in and stay out of anyone's way. To mask any sort of oddness that set him apart. Maybe it was because of the copious amount of jello he ate. Or the number of pills he took with each meal. Either way, he didn't feel like he'd done anything, in particular, to gain the title of a freak already. Maybe it was just in him. Some primal part of other people's brains that they could sniff out. Something that set off the inherent wrongness that permeated his entire existence.

_"Freak!"_

_The anger that had been simmering inside of him boiled over. He turned to where the name came from and punched the older boy in the nose. The crunch beneath his fist was satisfying - it made him feel strong, but it wasn't enough. He tackled him to the ground and wrapped his hands around his throat. He knew the struggle beneath him and blood gushing from the boy’s broken nose steadily dripping onto his hands should scare him. The wrongness of the situation was twisting in his stomach but he couldn't do anything but watch the events unfold in front of him. Hands pulled on his arms, his shoulders, but he wouldn't let go. The boy clawed at Malcolm’s wrists._

_"He's going to kill him!" somebody screamed._

Malcolm tumbled from his bed, falling to the ground. He struggled with his blankets and the ghostly memory of hands pulling at him. He took deep, gulping breaths, his body shaking uncontrollably. He cried, curling into himself and sobbing at the memory of what he did. Of what he was capable of doing.

...

The sky was still dark and classes didn't start for another few hours but he needed to clear his head. He was out of the room as soon as he was dressed, backpack in hand. He idly wondered if he would get in trouble for loitering around campus so early but didn’t care enough to stop. A walk around the quiet campus would help him more than stewing in anger and fear would. His hands clenched and he swore he could still feel the flesh beneath them. Shaking them out he picked up speed, he could only imagine what he looked like, a small body half jogging in his full uniform at such an odd hour. 

He barely registered where his feet had taken him until he found himself, tray in hand, trying to decide between a mixed berry or cheese danish. He hadn't expected to find his way to the dining hall. It had quickly become his favorite place on campus other than the library so he really shouldn’t have been surprised. 

"I’d go with the berry, they were freshly made this morning,” the now familiar voice brought a smile to his face. He turned to see Vijay, an apron on top of his school uniform. “I would know, I made them.” He nodded to the kitchen where an older man smiled and waved at them, spoon in hand. “The chef used to work for my family so sometimes I come down here to help.” 

Malcolm took the danish. It was still warm, the smell of the berries caused a loud growl from his stomach. Vijay smiled his winning smile at him and Malcolm pretended that the heat in his face came from his run around the school.

They sat at their usual table, tucked away in a corner, even though only a handful of bleary-eyed seniors were in the dining hall. It was _their_ table. They’d spent every meal there together since that first lunch. 

Only two weeks had passed but Malcolm enjoyed the comfort and familiarity of sitting in his company. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to enjoy the friendship of a person that wasn’t twenty-something years older than him. 

“Nightmares or insomnia?” He regretted asking it the moment the words came out of his mouth. It was too personal. Too intimate. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me. That was stupid-”

“Both,” Vijay smiled weakly back at him. Malcolm froze, studying his face and noting the tired strain of his friend’s eyes, the slight slump to his usually impeccable posture. Vijay sighed deeply, far too deep for a boy their age. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back. Malcolm bit his lip, chewing on it, not knowing what to say or how to comfort him. They didn’t talk about their fathers. They didn’t talk about not talking about their fathers. They talked about their families but never crossed that threshold, not since that first day and their flubbed up meeting.

“I get them too. The nightmares. And Insomnia. And,” he flailed his arms around, “and everything else that goes along with being the son of a-,” he caught himself before he let the words slip from him, not ready for that conversation yet. “The son of a criminal. I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night”

Vijay eyed him, Malcolm could sense the question at the tip of his tongue. ‘What did your dad do’. Instead, he nodded and sighed again. 

“So what do you do?” Vijay asked.

“Sometimes I go on a run and I have these breathing exercises I’m supposed to do. I have a therapist and my friend Gil, he helps a lot.”

“The cop?”

“Yeah, he’s a cop but he’s my friend too.”

“I still don’t really get how that works,” Vijay shook his head. “Does it help?”

Malcolm stared at him for a second. Did it help?

“Yeah. Sometimes. I mean, I’m here and not at Claremont with my dad so that’s saying something.” 

“I don’t think they take minors at Claremont,” Vijay scoffed. 

“Sometimes I read or watch tv. If you ever want company I’m probably awake. We could,” he shrugged, _stay casual Malcolm, he told himself_ , “we could hang out or something in my room? I have video games too.” 

Vijay raised an eyebrow at him. 

“How big is the tv in your room?”

…

"All I'm saying is that Marth is an obvious choice." Malcolm practically shouted, waving his arms in disbelief.

They had ended up in Malcolm's room, playing games, and killing time. If it hadn't been for Vijay noticing the time they'd still be there. 

Vijay had a habit of walking Malcolm to class and talking with him until the first warning bell rang. He sometimes wondered if Vijay ever made it to his own classes on time or what his other friends thought. Or if he had other friends. 

"You're kidding me, Kirby is an all-around fighter, easier to handle, and doesn't move around like he's wearing silk shoes!" Vijay was shouting too at this point.

"He's easier because he's for babies," Malcolm teased. 

"Babies! How could a baby lift a hammer that big?!" 

He felt the eyes on him before he saw them. The classroom had gone silent the moment he’d walked in.

"Is it true,” one of the boys asked, ”that your dad killed that many people?"

_Fuck_. Two weeks. He was honestly surprised it had taken that long for word to get out. He tried to stay calm. He tried to breathe. He felt his hands starting to shake. 

“Did you know?”

“Did you see a dead body?”

“Was your mom in on it?”

“I heard you still see him.”

“Is it true he dissected them?”

“I can’t believe they let you into the school.”

It was so loud, all the boys asking all the questions he tried so hard not to ask himself. Vijay was saying something to him that he couldn’t quite grasp onto. They had been talking about something before they'd entered the room but he couldn't remember what it was. It seems unimportant now. He swallowed and tried to concentrate. Two weeks of friendship. He’d never see Vijay smile at him again. He'd be alone. Again. 

"-remember seeing it all over the news. They say he tortured them all before he killed them. No way his family didn't know about it." 

"Hey Vijay," the voice called from across the room. "Did you know your little boyfriend’s a serial killer? Son of the Surgeon. No wonder he's such a freak." They were laughing. They were laughing at him. At the people his father killed. This was all a big joke to them. He could deal with being made a fool of but those people, the innocent lives his father had taken away, he couldn’t accept that. He felt all the rage he kept buried starting to well up. 

Malcolm thought back to everything he had done in the last two weeks that would have labeled him a freak. He had tried his best to blend in and stay out of anyone's way. To mask any sort of oddness that set him apart. Maybe it was because of the copious amount of jello he ate. Or the number of pills he took with each meal. Either way, he didn't feel like he'd done anything, in particular, to gain the title of a freak already. Maybe it was just in him. Some primal part of other people's brains that they could sniff out. Something that set off the inherent wrongness that permeated his entire existence. 

"Just because his name's Whitly doesn't mean he's from the same family," Vijay called back.

He felt the tight squeeze in his chest and fought back tears, the rage instantly flipping inward. 

It somehow hurt more to hear his friend attempt to defend him against the truth. He _wouldn’t_ want to be friends with him anymore, though. Now that he knew. Who would? Whatever Vijay’s father did was nowhere in the same league as what his father had. A cold sweat spread through his body. 

Alone. He would always be alone.

Bile filled his mouth and he ran. He pushed his way through the crowded hallway. He barely made it to the restroom before emptying the contents of his stomach into the nearest toilet. He retched again and again. 

“Gross, dude.” A toilet flushed and he heard footsteps leaving, the door closing behind them.

Alone. He sat with the back of his head against the rim of the toilet. He knew it was disgusting but didn’t care. He was disgusting. He heard a sound coming from somewhere before realizing it was him. He was crying. Making an absolute idiot of himself. He didn’t know why he had let himself believe this time would be different. Just because a boy with pretty eyes smiled at him? _How fucking stupid can I be? How many times am I going to let this happen?_ He covered his mouth trying to muffle his crying. Squeezed his eyes shut to force the tears away. It didn’t work. It never did. 

“Hey, Malcolm? You okay?” He jumped at the sound of Vijay’s voice. He hadn’t heard the other boy come in. He let out a few shaky sobs trying to find his voice. It took a few minutes before he was able to reply. 

“Yeah,” he sniffled, pulling the toilet paper out to wipe his face, “I’m fine.” 

Vijay laughed. And he kept on laughing. 

Anger flashed in him and he stood, throwing the bathroom door open to stare down the laughing boy. 

“You think this is fucking funny? What the hell is wrong with you-” he didn’t have a chance to finish his words before Vijay pulled him into a tight hug. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” he struggled against him for a moment but the boy didn’t loosen his grip. The arms wrapped around him struck him silent. He wasn’t crying anymore and Vijay wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t angry. Just very, very confused. He leaned into the hug nonetheless enjoying the warmth of the body pressed against his and tried to ignore everything else. Maybe this was Vijay’s way of saying goodbye? A final bit of kindness? He wrapped his arms around him and clung to him. 

They stayed that way even when the bathroom door opened, an older boy glanced at them before taking care of his business at a nearby urinal, washing his hands, and calling out, "get a room" before the door shut behind him. 

“You’re not mad I didn’t tell you?” he quietly asked. 

Vijay took a step back, letting go of him to look him in the eyes.

“Malcolm, I-”

The door swung open, an older security guard furrowing his brow at the two of them. 

“What’re you kids doing in here?”

They looked at each other, neither one of them knowing what to say. 

“Honestly sir,“ Malcolm replied, “I have no fucking idea.” 

…

He sat in the waiting room outside the principal’s office. They had been lectured for what felt like hours by the security guard about the importance of education and that loitering when they were supposed to be in class was unacceptable. The lecture would have lasted longer but a panicked teacher called on the radio to let all security know that the Whitly kid, yes _that Whitly_ , had gone missing and to keep an eye out for him. After that they had been silently led to the principal’s office, the old guard’s eyes shifting uncomfortably over Malcolm every few seconds. 

He sat next to Vijay. They didn’t talk. He was fidgeting, chewing on his lip, and shaking his leg. Vijay didn’t look much calmer. He kept running his hand through his usually perfectly quaffed hair and giving Malcolm a strained but reassuring smile. 

He could hear the clicking of his mother's heels before he saw her. 

“Mrs. Whitly we assure you that absolutely nothing-”

“I swear if a goddamned hair on his head is out of place I-.” 

The door swung open and his mother came striding in looking like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, not gracing the hallways of a boys boarding school. She smiled sweetly at him before kneeling, taking his chin in her hand, and moving his head back and forth looking for any sign of harm on him. 

“Mom, mom, _Mother_ , I’m okay. I’m fine.” He pulled away from her grasp, rolling his eyes. 

“I came as soon as I got the call, they told me you went missing, that you tried to run away.”

“What? No, I didn’t. I wasn’t-”

“You see Mrs. Whitly when the boy’s teacher got to the classroom he noticed right away that Malcolm was missing. We started a school-wide search and found him hiding in the bathroom.”

“That’s not what happened,” Malcolm was beginning to feel frantic. He did nothing wrong, he just needed some space, he wasn’t trying to hide. Well, he was but not _hide_ , hide. “I didn’t hide. I wasn’t trying to run away.”

“Malcolm,” the principal replied in a condescending tone, “you weren’t in class after the bell rang, we have a very strict rule about skipping classes.”

His mother stared daggers at the older man. “It’s fine Malcolm, go get your things packed. All this fuss over skipping class? Is that really the biggest thing you have to worry about here?”

“I don’t want to go- Mother, please, just-”

“Malcolm, Adolpho is waiting, just pack the essentials and we’ll send someone to get the rest,” she waved him off. 

He stood, his legs slightly wobbling beneath him. He nearly jumped when Vijay cleared his throat and started to speak after staying quiet the entire time. 

“Mrs. Whitly,” he took her hand, shaking it. She looked at him like she was just noticing he was in the room, which was entirely possible, “Vijay Chandasara, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances.” He gave her his world-class smile before turning to Malcolm and winking. 

He was charming and Malcolm couldn’t believe that his mother and the principal were actually letting him talk instead of sending him out of the room. He was just a teenager but he was charismatic enough that people wanted to listen to him. Maybe it had something to do with his height, his sharp jaw, the commanding tone in his voice. The way he wore the sleeves of his uniform rolled up just enough- Malcolm shook his head. It wasn’t the time or the place to start pinning now. 

“I was with Malcolm when this whole mess started. The matter of Malcolm’s _paternal_ influence was put into question.” He clasped his hand to Malcolm’s shoulder, “Malcolm was reasonably upset with the situation so we went to a private area, the bathroom, where he could have a moment to collect himself in privacy before returning to class. That’s where we were when the very respectable security guard found us and assumed we were attempting to ditch. That’s all there is to it, right Malcolm?” 

He blinked, needing a moment to realize he was talking to him, before nodding back at him. It struck him that Vijay was doing this to him because they were friends. Present tense. Even with the knowledge of who his father was he still wanted to be friends with Malcolm. 

“Yeah,” Malcolm nodded to his mother more confidently, “it’s like Vijay said, not a big deal. There’s no reason to take me out of school. It was just a minor miscommunication.” He mimicked Vijay’s loose body language. His mother had sued and utterly destroyed schools and businesses alike for less than this and he needed to sell it. She eyed him before turning to the principal. 

“Malcolm won’t be receiving any punishment for leaving class when he needs to, not now, not ever.”

“Mrs. Whitly, be reasonable, this is a school and we can’t warrant this kind of disruption-”

“I’m not making a request. The only reason this school is still standing after the scandal that happened earlier this year is because of _my_ money and that money can stop just as quickly as it started.” the older man went pale and nodded to her. “Good. Well,” she turned to Malcolm, her mood instantly flipping to her peppy, nice mom mode, “It’s so good to see you making friends sweetheart. Since I’m here maybe you could show me around campus?”

“Mother. You know what the school looks like. It looks like a school. I’d just really like to go lay down now if that’s okay,” he side-eyed the principal waiting to see if he would comment. 

“Of course, have Mr. Chandasara walk you back though.” She winked at both of them and he fought the urge to groan. 

They collected their backpacks and headed for the door when it swung open, a very sweaty, slightly out of breath Gil, still in uniform, looked to the boys and to Jessica and back to Malcolm. 

“I made it as fast as I could but things look pretty under control here.” he stepped out of the doorway for the boys to walk through. Vijay stopped for a moment before shaking Gil’s hand. 

“Vijay Chandasara, It’s an honor to meet you Mr. - I mean detective- Arroyo. I’ve heard a lot about you from Malcolm. I hope our next meeting is a much more pleasant one.” the man looked confusedly at everyone in the room. Malcolm bit his lip to hold back a laugh. 

“I promise I’ll catch you up on everything later.” 

...

The walk to his room went quickly, things staying mostly quiet except for the sounds of nearby classrooms or the occasional bird singing while they walked through the courtyard. He unlocked his door and he watched Vijay’s confident facade fade. 

“You wanna come in for a bit? It’s been a helluva morning.” He nodded to Malcolm and they walked in together. The silence between them held many questions. Why did Vijay still want to be his friend? Had he always known who his father was? Why was he willing to risk his neck for him? 

He flopped onto the couch, Vijay collapsing next to him. Their knees were just barely touching but contact had his brain swirling by the comfort and desire for more. He remembered his hug, how nice it had felt to have his arms around him. He wondered if he could ask for another hug but was mortified by the idea of requesting it. Instead, he tilted his head over, resting it on the taller boy's shoulder. That seemed safe and Vijay could always shove him off. 

He didn’t shove him off though. He closed his eyes and Malcolm took that as a sign to do the same. He really was exhausted. Just because Vijay had stayed with him today didn’t mean the rest of the school was going to magically accept that a serial killer's son was their classmate. He listened to Vijay’s breaths turn into soft snores and smiled to himself knowing he would tease him about it later. It was relaxing. Meditative. He matched his breathing and let himself enjoy the warmth of his friend and more quickly than he would later admit, he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really wanted these boys to snuggle. Can you blame me?


	3. Meet The Family (Part One)

**Friday Afternoon**

The door swung open, and Ainsley’s mischievous face poked through, "Moooooom, Malcolm, and his boyfriend are here," she called. Malcolm glared at his sister before nervously looking at Vijay. 

"Just ignore her. Please."

"Whatever you say, babe," he winked mischievously at Malcolm. 

Ainsley giggled and he groaned, trying to remember why he thought bringing Vijay home for spring break was a good idea. His constant stream of teasing and terms of endearment made his heart skip a beat every time followed by an uncomfortable twisting in his gut.

He looked up at the boy who was now animatedly talking with Ainsley about all the late nights they’d have and junk food they were going to eat when he looked over to Malcolm, a grin spread across his face. “And you’re invited too, of course,” he laughed. He turned his back to them to hide his blushing. _Oh yeah, that’s why_. He shook his head, they were going to be spending two weeks together and if he was going to survive this he needed to get over his little crush.

“Come on. I’ll show you the room you’ll be staying in.”

…

He’d shown Vijay the guest room and given him a quick tour of the house ( _This is the kitchen, this is the formal sitting room, and that is the door to the basement where my dad killed people_ ) before circling back to his own room.

“Damn Whitly, I knew you were from old money but,” he threw his arms out, dramatically waving at the hand-carved crown molding and the portrait his mother had commissioned of him and Ainsley that made them look like sickly children from the turn of the century. He opened the door to his own room where his friend fell onto the bed unceremoniously. Malcolm rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. “I mean, my family has money too but this is impressive as fuck.”

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, trying desperately not to think too hard about how his friend looked sprawled out in his bed. _Stupid, fucking, teenage hormones. It’s nothing._

He shrugged.“My mother had some renovations done a few years ago and knocked down a wall in the basement and bam, a room that used to be…” he chewed his lip, “that used to be slaves’ quarters was found. Like they could just wall it off and forget about it. But that’s kind of a common theme in my family I guess.” He sat at the edge of the bed, away from Vijay. A heavy mood suddenly overwhelming their usual camaraderie. “Sorry,” he sighed, “this house always has a special way of sucking the fun out of me.” The room was quiet and again he wondered why he thought it was a good idea to invite someone into this house. A small part of him wondered if it was morbid curiosity that drove Vijay to be his friend and accept his invitation.

“Hey, Malcolm,” he felt the bed shift as the boy scooted closer to him, “I know we don’t really talk about dad stuff but if you ever need to vent or whatever I’m here for you.” The edge of Vijay’s hand brushed against Malcolm’s and stayed there. They were touching by only a few centimeters but he felt his heart beating so loudly that he was sure Vijay had to hear it too. He stared at their hands and questioned what this was, what this meant.

The door swung open without a knock. He jumped and stood up as quickly as possible, causing him to get a head rush and stumble slightly. 

“Oh, Malcolm my sweet boy!” His mother hugged him tight and he struggled to pull away, “It’s so good to have you home again. Ainsley and I have missed you so much.” She held him tight, missing Vijay standing up from his casual position on the bed, knocking over one of the many piles of books in the room. 

“Mother. It’s good to see you sober,” he sniffed her exaggeratedly, “Mostly sober.” 

She pulled away from him, the poison in her smile making him know he would regret his words. 

“God, I can’t wait for you to be out of your teenage years. Anyway,” she shooed him away like they weren’t in his room. “It’s so good to see you again, Mr. Chandasara. I would say that Malcolm has told me so much about you but he tells me nothing about anything.” 

Malcolm clenched and unclenched his hands and bit his tongue to prevent himself from any further outbursts, plastering a sarcastic smile on his face. 

“Call me Vijay, Mrs. Whitly. And I’d be more than happy to tell you all about myself.” 

“Well, we’ll have more than enough time to get to know each other, Vijay.” She turned to leave the room, “Dinner is at six in the formal dining room. And Malcolm, the attitude is not invited. “ 

The door shut and Malcolm flopped onto his bed face down, grumbling into his pillow. 

“I dunno man,” Vijay flopped beside him, “she doesn’t seem that bad.” he grabbed the pillow out from under Vijay’s head and smacked him in the face with it. 

He jumped from the bed, pillow in hand, “Oh, that’s how it’s going to be? I’m taller than you Whitly, I have range.” 

Malcolm rolled over, snorting with laughter before receiving a blow to the stomach with the offending pillow. 

...

He pushed a cherry tomato across his plate with his fork. He hated tomatoes. The texture, the taste, the smell, not to mention what their acidity would do to his stomach. Seeing them on his plate had all but ruined his appetite but he had made the effort to take a few bites of the surrounding food. 

He had spent the last twenty minutes listening to Vijay tell a condensed version of his life story. The clean-cut version that mentioned nothing of his father, the constant ditching of classes, or his affinity for stealing. Not that his mother didn’t know about that, he was fairly certain she knew everything and anything that had any hint of a paper trail about the boy. Social security number, blood type, and his GPA included. 

When he was younger he tried to convince himself that was why he had so few friends, his mother had no sense of boundaries and no one wanted to deal with it. It wasn’t just her fault in the same way that it wasn’t his father’s. Not that either of them helped the situation. He had always been a curious child. More than a little different. It made him stick out in social situations, made people wary of him. He was too quiet _and_ too loud. Too honest and too private. He made people uncomfortable. 

After a few months of friendship, he still didn’t comprehend why Vijay was friends with him. Sure, Vijay was a little eccentric in his own ways but for the most part, he was a regular teenage boy. He was loud, on the school’s soccer team, he asked girls out on dates. None of them said yes but that was beside the point. He wanted to stop questioning it and just accept it but the constant nagging in the back of his mind that one day he would do something that would cross the lines of their friendship.

He needed to shake off that train of thought before he set himself spiraling. It was spring break. Time to relax. Time to hang out with his best friend. He took a deep breath and forced himself to concentrate on the conversation around him. 

"So, Vijay,” Jessica rested her hand on the young man’s arm and smiled brightly, “do you mind me asking how you ended up getting left behind?"

"Not at all, Mrs. Whitly," his mother's smile destroyed any lingering interest in food that he had and he set his fork down. Her tone was too saccharine sweet for his liking. "My mother made plans months ago for us to visit my grandparents but my sisters and I have conflicting spring breaks. The decision was made that they would go and I would stay at school and out of trouble." 

"That's understandable, a young boy flying all the way to India is unsafe."

"Actually, they're at Martha's Vineyard."

Malcolm laughed, choking on the water he was drinking. His mother scowled at him before turning to Vijay again. 

“Well, we’re just glad you’re here with us rather than all alone at school.”

Vijay eyed Malcolm’s plate and he pushed it towards him. He speared the tomatoes onto his fork before stuffing them all in his mouth at once. Somewhere during their many shared meals together Vijay had gotten in the habit of eating whatever parts of food he’d left behind which was usually half or more of his plate. For being so skinny, he could eat a surprisingly large amount.

His mother smiled at both of them, a genuine smile Malcolm hadn’t seen on her face in a while. She wasn’t the worst mother. She was far from the best. He knew he was unnecessarily hard on her sometimes, that she had never had a particularly maternal personality. That she had never expected to be in the position she was now, trying her best to raise two children while her ex-husband was a permanent resident in a psychiatric facility for doing the worst one could do to other human beings. He had to remind himself that she was trying and that he needed to try too. 

…

Ainsley followed them to his room where he allowed her to stay until it was her bedtime. They played video games and watched episodes of Cowboy Bebop late into the night until Malcolm looked over to see Vijay’s eyes half-closed and nodding off. He nudged him with his foot.

“C’mon, time for bed.” Malcolm nudged him again, the only reply he got was a half whine, half groan that he knew the other boy would never admit to making later. “Come on, you can’t sleep on my floor.” 

“It’s comfy,” he squeezed his eyes together and held onto the pillow he had been resting against like a koala bear. “Just pass me a blanket,” he mumbled. 

Malcolm sighed. It was a bad idea. He knew how terrible a sleeper he was but until this point he had somehow avoided having any truly terrible night terrors around his friend. His first night back home was never an easy one. But he was tired and the idea of having Vijay there within reach of him the entire night was too enticing. He tossed a duvet onto his already snoring friend before turning off the tv, putting in his mouth guard, and laying in his bed, eyes closed. He listened to the deep, even breaths of his friend - just an arms reach away - and before he realized it he had fallen asleep. 

…

He woke up in the night, throat sore from the yelling, sweating, and struggling against his sheets. The details of the nightmare were already slipping away from him. He squeezed his eyes shut and apologized, there was no way Vijay could have slept through that. He could feel the sinking feeling in his gut building as the silence continued, wondering what his friend thought of him, wondering what things he had been yelling out when his train of thought was interrupted by a loud snore. Apparently, someone could sleep through that. He laughed to himself in the dark and settled back into his bed and completely surprised himself by swiftly falling back to sleep. 

…

**Day One, Saturday**

“I’m sorry but that is the most amount of sunblock I’ve ever seen any one person use,” Vijay smirked, a laugh hanging on his lips. “Seriously Whitly, don’t use the whole bottle, I still need some.” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes and passed the bottle to him. It wasn’t his fault his skin couldn’t take the sun. He burned after less than five minutes in direct sunlight and he had no intention of spending the next two weeks shedding like a snake. He was about to make a snarky reply when he looked over to see his friend rubbing sunblock into his shoulders and chest. He swallowed hard and turned to the pool. 

Ainsley chose that moment to jump from the high dive, splashing chlorine-filled water on his face and burning his eyes. He gasped as the cool water dripped off of him. 

“Mom! Ainsley purposely splashed my face!” 

“Sweetheart, it’s a pool and she’s ten.” She took a long sip from her mimosa. He could feel but not see her rolling her eyes at him behind her dark sunglasses. 

He crossed his arms across his stomach, holding onto himself and glaring at his sister. It was an unusually hot day and his mother had announced at breakfast that it was to be a pool day. He wasn’t particularly fond of swimming, he usually stayed at home, holed up in his room reading on days his mother and sister went to the pool. When he was a child they used to go to the country club but after his father's arrest they had been banned so his mother had bought a swanky condo with a private roof-side pool.

Vijay liked swimming though. His oldest sister was an Olympic swimming hopeful and he spent many of his weekends lounging poolside when he wasn’t busy with his own extracurriculars. He wasn’t just going to sit at home while Vijay went off with his mother and sister so here he was, awkwardly holding onto himself, not remembering the last time he had actually set foot in a pool. 

He turned back to Vijay who was already looking at him, smiling. He walked to Malcolm and leaned towards the water. 

“So, how deep is the water anyway?” he asked. There are moments in your life when you have a decision to make and only a split second to act on them. 

“I’m not sure, why don’t you tell me?” 

Vijay only had a split second to look at Malcolm confused before he was pushed into the pool. His head popped back out of the water almost instantly, eyes wide and sputtering water. 

“Oh you are _dead,_ Whitly!” He bearhugged Malcolm by the shins and tossed him into the pool with him. Malcolm yelped as the icy water overtook him. He pushed himself up and out of the water and laughed, shaking the water from his dripping hair. 

“Now we’re even,” Vijay grinned, clapping his shoulder. Ainsley paddled over to them.

“Oh so he pulls you in and it’s fine but I splash you and you tell mom!” 

“Don’t think I forgot about that,” Malcolm said, splashing his sister. 

...

They spent the day in the pool. Malcolm was surprised to find himself actually hungry for lunch and later for dinner as well. He still ate less than Ainsley but his mother smiled and congratulated him. He blushed at her words. Later when Vijay was changing he took her aside. 

“Mom, you can’t say things like that around Vijay.”

“Like what, darling?” she asked innocently. 

“Like, good job eating, it makes me look like a child.”

“Malcolm, you _are_ my child and I _am_ proud of you. Besides I don’t think that boy rightly cares about any of your peculiarities.”

“What do you mean?” he blinked and she smiled sweetly back at him. 

“I mean that you’ll figure it out on your own,” she patted his cheek before walking away and he was left with the feeling that he didn’t entirely understand the conversation they’d just had. 

…

His eyes felt heavy, a day spent in the sun wore him out. They were in his room again where Vijay, who had never played Metal Gear Solid, was playing while Malcolm watched. He closed his eyes, just a few more minutes and he’d tell Vijay he was done for the night. 

When his eyes opened again it was darker. He rolled over to see Vijay laying on the floor covered in the same duvet he had used the night before, video game still on the tv, controller just inches from his hands. He pulled the blanket up higher on Vijay, covering his shoulders. He knew he shouldn’t, it was weird, creepy even, but he watched his friend’s face while he slept. He memorized every slope, every blemish. He would never allow himself to so openly stare at him but here in the cover of night it felt safe. Having him close always felt so safe. 

**Day Two, Sunday**

Malcolm winced as he attempted to pull his shirt over his sunburnt back after applying a hefty layer of aloe. He glared at Vijay who was only slightly darker than he had been a day earlier and had only gotten sunburnt the smallest bit on his cheeks and nose. It somehow made him even more adorable than usual. 

“Oooh, that looks painful, have you tried wearing sunblock?” Vijay asked before getting a face full of the throw pillow Malcolm tossed at him. “Here, pass me the bottle. you missed your neck.” He handed him the bottle and sat on the floor in front of him. Vijay rubbed the aloe onto his neck with light, careful touches. He closed his eyes and hummed, the coolness bringing relief he didn’t know he needed. 

“So when are you two going to make out already?” Ainsley was on her feet running before she’d finished speaking and Malcolm was off like a rocket behind her. 

“Get back here, you little bastard child!” he yelled as she giggled, skirting away from his grasp.

“Malcolm, language,” his mother yelled from a nearby room. 

**Day Four, Tuesday**

He wasn’t sure how long he had been reading before he realized he had all but abandoned his friend for the last few hours. He wasn’t used to having a guest or just being around people in general. It never seemed to bother Vijay but he didn’t want him to think he didn’t want to spend time with him or was purposely ignoring him either. He walked around the house checking all the likely spots until he heard voices coming from the sitting room. He found his mother, Vijay, and Ainsley crowded together on a couch looking through a book. A very familiar book. His heart dropped. 

“Nononono! Mother! Please tell me you’re not looking through my baby book!” He stood frozen in the doorway, face burning red, Ainsley cackling. His mother met his eye and wiped a tear from her eye, shutting the book and coming to him for a tight hug. 

“Oh my baby boy” she squeezed him, kissing the top of his head, “you were such a sweet little thing!” 

Malcolm shut his eyes. Obviously this was a dream. A terrible, terrible dream he would wake up from and promptly remember to hide the terrible book. Or better yet, burn it. He opened his eyes to find he was unfortunately still there. He took deep, calming breaths like Dr. Le Deux taught him. 

“We haven’t even gotten to the best ones! When you were first potty training and you used to walk around- “

“Nope, no we are not finishing that sentence,” he broke from his mother’s grip and glared at Ainsley who was still laughing so hard she might hyperventilate. He grabbed Vijay by the arm and dragged him from the room. They had made it halfway to his room before he remembered he was still holding onto Vijay and let him go. 

“Seriously, I can’t leave you alone for five minutes,” he huffed.

“Aw, c’mon _baby boy_ , don’t be mad,” he bumped shoulders with Malcolm, a wicked grin on his face. 

“I swear to god I will kill you if you call me that in front of anyone.”

“Sure, whatever you say, babe.” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes and wondered what he had done to deserve any of this. 

**Day Five, Wednesday Morning - Day Seven, Friday Night**

Vijay stared at him, his eyes narrowed, “How have you not seen _The Fellowship of the Ring_?”

Malcolm shrugged. “I just don’t see movies often. Plus, I hear it’s nothing like the books.” 

Vijay shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips. 

“Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

...

They were two days and six viewings in. Ainsley had forgone hanging out with them a day ago, mumbling something about nerds as she left. 

“What do you mean they're not showing the extended editions in theatres?"

Vijay shook his head while stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “It’s ridiculous, I know, “ he said through a mouthful of popcorn, “And on top of that, we have to wait a couple of months after the DVD release to even get them"

“This is why I don’t watch movies!”

…

He wiped a tear from his eye, watching Boromir clutch Aragorn’s hand and mouthed the words, “I would have followed you my brother… my captain... my king.” He felt eyes on him and turned to see Vijay looking at him softly. 

“What?” he questioned, feeling self-conscious of his tear rimmed eyes. 

“It’s-,” Vijay shook his head and sighed. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

He knew him well enough to know it wasn’t nothing but bit his tongue and turned his head back to the movie in time to see Sam wading in the water after Frodo. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That damn scene makes me cry every time. Sam wading into the water knowing fully well he doesn't know how to swim and poor Frodo who lost his parents to drowning seeing his best friend struggling to stay afloat. Oof.


	4. Meet The Family (Part Two)

**Day Nine, Sunday Night**

Malcolm, Vijay, and Ainsley sat at the table, a board game spread out in front of them. He heard the phone ring and thought nothing of it when the maid, Rosa, answered it before passing it to his mother. He looked up in time to see her demeanor change, rage taking over her face. She was trying to stay calm but her whispers were growing louder by the second. He knew who it was. The world went quiet for a moment and somewhere in his mind, a switch flipped.

He stood without realizing it and walked to his mother. 

“Malcolm, it’s your turn,” Ainsley called after him. 

“I’m done playing,” he monotonously replied.

“You can’t just call like this and expect him to drop everything. You have no right. How dare you-” his mother stopped mid-sentence when he touched her arm. 

“I’ll take the call in my room.” She nodded at him. He didn’t remember walking to his room but he found himself sitting on his bed, phone already in hand. He took a deep breath before putting the phone to his ear. 

“Hi, dad.” His voice was flat, without any feeling. He sat on his shaking hand like his father would somehow see and comment on it. 

"Malcolm! Well, don't you sound so excited to hear from your darling father? Oh, it's so good to hear your voice again! You can't imagine how much I've missed you." 

He said nothing. It had been nearly three months since he'd spoken to his father. He felt like he'd been making progress. He'd started a new school. Made a friend. His medication even seemed to be evening out nicely. Now he was back to square one. 

"Well, I'm waiting? Don't you have anything to say to me?" He could hear the annoyance in his father's voice but still, he said nothing. His mouth seemed to have stopped working. _All that work for nothing._

"God, it's just a little small talk, don't be so melodramatic Malcolm. It's unbecoming of a boy your age. It makes you look weak. You've been spending too much time with your mother." 

He grit his teeth. "Don't talk about my mother." 

"Oh, you've found your words again. Good." 

Malcolm bit his tongue, resolving not to say another word if he could help it. 

"It's time for you to come around for a visit." It was an order, not a request. "Just us Whitly men having a heart to heart, it's been far too long. A boy needs his father, Malcolm, just like a bird needs its wings." 

He squeezed his eyes shut and his mind filled with images of birds with clipped wings. He felt dizzy and hated himself for being so damn weak. 

"Okay." He finally replied in barely A whisper. 

"What was that my boy, my hearing's a little rusty from disuse." 

"I said, okay! I'll be there!" He slammed the phone against the receiver. 

He curled into a ball on the floor and cried while the words repeated in his head: _I am weak. I am worthless. I'll never be strong enough to say no._

**Day Eleven, Monday**

The last day and a half had passed by in a blur. He held only the faintest memory of anything that had happened after the phone had rung. 

He took a deep, calming breath before looking at Dr. Le Deux. Her face is calm and neutral as always, a slight smile on her lips. 

“Feeling any better?” she questioned.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Feeling more awake. More aware of my surroundings.”

“Good, that’s great, Malcolm.” 

He squeezed the teddy bear in his arms. 

“Now, would you like to talk about the phone call with your father?”

“No!” He stood from his chair, the bear falling from his grasp. He closed his eyes and evened his breaths before sitting down. “No, I would rather not talk about that now.” 

“That’s perfectly fine Malcolm, we can talk about it when you’re ready. How about your friend Vijay, I hear he’s staying with you? Would it be okay for me to ask you a few questions?”

He paused, studying the room while he contemplated the offer. 

“Yes. Yeah. I think that would be okay.”

**…**

The LeMans in its usual pristine condition was parked outside when he got back home. Gil didn’t have children of his own but his car was definitely his baby. 

He felt weak and worn out, like he was recovering from an illness, and wondered how much sleep he had gotten over the last few days or if his mother had managed to get him to eat anything. Everything was such a blur. He could hear talking coming from the dining room but made a detour to the kitchen. He grabbed some sparkling water and took the time to peel and slice some apples before making his way to join them. The talking stopped as soon as he entered and he smiled at Gil who quickly stood up and enveloped him in a tight bear hug. 

“Hey kid, you doin’ alright?”

“I’ve been better. I’m about to drop my food if you don’t let me go, though.”

“Oh, sorry,” he grabbed the plate and drink from Malcolm’s hands and set it on the table, gesturing to him to sit down with them. His mother sat at the table. Her red-rimmed eyes made his chest ache knowing he was the reason behind them. 

He sat between them and nibbled on an apple slice, listening to them talk. He knew they’d been talking about him and that once he left they would continue to talk about him but they were nice enough to pretend it was just a normal visit. He felt safe there sitting between them. It was ridiculous, he knew. He was a teenager, almost a grown man but sitting there he could almost pretend he had a normal life. That Gil was his father, that his mother didn’t drink, that he was just enjoying a quiet afternoon with the two of them. He finished his apple and stood to leave. 

“I’d love to stay and talk but I’m exhausted, I’m going to go take a nap.” His mother and Gil nodded to him and he left, their low voices already changing tone before he was out of listening distance.

…

Moments like this made him hate having to walk up so many stairs to his room. There had been times when he was just desperate enough that he’d just curl up in the formal living room. The couch was outrageously uncomfortable but it was a flat, vertical surface, and sometimes that was enough. 

He pushed his door open and blinked. Vijay laid on his bed, tossing a stress ball into the air, stumbling and missing it so it hit him directly in the face when he saw Malcolm in the open doorway. 

“Hi.” he bit his lip and looked at his friend sheepishly. Vijay sat up, a genuine smile breaking across his face. 

“Hey. I was worried about you. You look,” he paused, “you look more like yourself.”

“I’m sorry I-”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

They stared at each other. There were so many things Malcolm felt he needed to constantly apologize for, including his entire existence. 

“I- uh, I was going to take a nap but you don’t have to leave. You could stay in here if you want to.” Vijay sat up, scooting over from his spot in Malcolm’s bed. 

“Nice and toasty for you.” 

Malcolm laughed before crawling into his bed. Vijay picked up a book from the floor nearby before sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed. 

“Get your rest baby boy, we can hang out when you wake up.” He laughed again. He was never going to live that name down. His pillow smelled of Vijay’s shampoo, clean and soft, and warm. He slept. 

**Day Fourteen, Thursday**

Vijay blinked at him. “I’m sorry, did I hear you right?” 

Malcolm nodded, wondering what had struck him to make such a request. 

“So you want me to come with you," he exaggerated, pointing to the two of them, Malcolm nodded, "to Clairmont to visit your father, the serial killer?" 

Malcolm nodded again to confirm. 

Vijay put his hands on Malcolm’s shoulders. “Are you sick? Are you dying? Are you being controlled by some sort of Alien force? Do I need to call the FBI? You, the one who has barely said two words about your father, the serial killer, are asking me to come with you to-” he threw his hands into the air dramatically and began to pace the room. “To visit? Malcolm. You’re my best friend and I am here for you one hundred percent but-”

“I mean come with me in the car Vijay, not into the actual room with him.” Vijay breathed out a huge sigh of relief. 

“Oh, thank fucking god.” He watched as the pacing and tension left Vijay’s body. “Moral support, yeah I can do that.” He smiled at Malcolm. 

He wasn’t sure what made him make the request. He never asked anyone to come with him to Claremont. His mother was always cold and aloof with him before he went and kept Ainsley away from him. Gil had offered to go with him a number of times but something about having his father and father figure in that close of proximity, even with walls between them, made him uncomfortable. The only people who were consistently there before and after visiting his father was Alfonso, the driver, and Mr. David, who had been his father's guard and babysitter from the beginning. He just wanted Vijay there. 

It would be a terrible idea to take Vijay actually into the cell with him - that would just be asking for trouble. The media would have a field day with it. Not to mention Vijay’s own family would probably never let them spend time together again either. He wasn’t even sure how they had allowed Vijay to spend spring break with him now that he thought of it. He put the question to the back of his mind, something to ask later. 

They were almost out the door when his mother stopped them, her hand catching Malcolm by the shoulder. 

“Sweetheart, you’re not seriously taking Vijay to meet your father?”

“He’s staying in the car,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m not that much of an idiot, God.”

Their ride to Claremont was silent except for the sound of his fingers drumming against the leather car interior. He was always anxious before a visit. For the millionth time, he wondered why he was doing this. Why did he visit the man who tore his family apart? Why did he let him have this much effect on his life? Why did he care about him? Why did he love him? He stared out the window watching the world pass without actually taking any of the details in. In his mind, there was a storm brewing but outside the sky was blue and people were going about their day to day lives without any thought of death and murderous fathers. 

He closed his eyes tight, feeling slightly nauseous. He heard the click of Vijay’s seat belt and the shift as he slid over to sit directly next to him, putting his arm around his shoulders. 

“I know this is kind of a dumb question, but are you okay?” his friend whispered so only he could hear him. 

He nodded. “Yeah. I mean, no I’m not but this is how it usually goes.” Vijay squeezed his shoulder. 

“You can be mad at me or just like punch me for asking this but have you ever thought about just not going?” 

Malcolm sighed deeply and rested his head against Vijay. He could lie and say he didn’t know why he did it, why every time his father invited him to visit he said yes. He could say no and absolutely no one would bat an eye. He always said yes. 

He always came. 

The man was the worst sort of human being but it didn’t change the fact that he was his father. He was loving and in a sick way, Malcolm still loved him and cared for him. He didn’t want him to be alone. He didn’t know how to explain it to his friend. He didn't know how to explain it to himself. He stayed silently pressed into Vijay's side until the car stopped and the door opened.

He turned to Vijay before the door was shut. 

“I’ll be right back, promise,” he gave him a weak smile and tried to ignore the worried look in his friend’s eyes. 

The driver walked him to the door. The woman at the front desk recognized him from his previous visits and passed him the visitor’s paperwork before giving him a temporary nametag and calling a guard to escort him. The walk to his father’s room was quick, or he was dazed enough that it felt that way. He was never quite sure. He nodded to Mr. David who nodded back to him, standing to open the door and stepping inside before him.

His father sat at his desk, finishing writing something down before looking at him with a smile that pierced straight through his heart. This was why he visited. Being on the receiving end of his father’s love and attention was like a drug. One that he had been addicted to before he even knew how to walk or talk. 

“My boy, it’s so good to see you! It’s been too long.” He spread his arms wide as if he expected a hug. 

Malcolm raised an eyebrow at him, looking down at the line painted on the floor. A line he would never cross and arms he would never feel around him again. 

“It wouldn’t have been so long if you hadn’t punched another inmate- I’m sorry I mean another patient. How was solitary by the way?” he asked sarcastically. 

“Now, young man that’s no way to talk to your father,” he wagged a finger at Malcolm, still smiling. “It was terrible, thanks for asking. And the attack was provoked,” he scoffed, “who doesn’t know the difference between Bach and Brahms? That’s just willful ignorance.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. His father wasn’t usually a violent man. Not in here at least. He wondered what had really happened that had provoked him. 

“Please, sit,” his father gestured to a well-worn fold out chair. 

He sighed, taking a seat.“I can’t stay too long, I have stuff to do.”

“Stuff?” His father smiled, reminding him of the Cheshire Cat whose led Alice astray and orchestrated her certain demise. “It’s spring break, no school, no extracurricular activities, and you don’t have a few hours to spend with your dear old dad?”

He shifted trying to find a semi-comfortable way to sit in the hard plastic chair. His plan was to keep the conversation light. Talk about his studies, his plan to start college prep courses in the summer, keep it impersonal. Things rarely went his way once he got under his father’s probing eye though. 

“So what sort of stuff do you have that you want to get back to, hmm? What sort of _stuff_ do fifteen-year-old boys keep themselves busy with?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, attempting and failing to sound nonchalant. “I’m just really into this new book-”

“Tsk, tsk, don’t lie to your father Malcolm, I’m the one who taught you how. Let’s think. Ah, I have it! It’s a girl isn’t it!” He clutched his hand to his heart to his chest dramatically, “Young love! Of course! Or is it young lust?” He winked and Malcolm swallowed the taste of bile in his mouth, trying his hardest to keep his face neutral. “Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop the subject.” 

“You’re wrong.” He thought of Vijay sitting in the car waiting for him, how safe he’d felt with the taller boy's arm around him. He chewed on his lower lip, looking away from his father. 

“Wrong about it being love or about it being a girl?”

“Both. I mean neither.” _Fuck._ A moment of silence passed between them. He felt his father’s eyes searching him and he knew he had been found out.

“Malcolm you can’t seriously think that your mother and I are unaware of your interest in the same sex. Or that we would judge you for it. It’s perfectly natural. I have to ask though, does this boy know your feelings about him?” 

It was too late to hide it from him. It had been from the second he stepped through the door. 

“No,” he whispered. “He doesn’t know. I can’t tell him. He’s my best friend. My only friend.” he crossed and uncrossed his legs, suddenly filled with nervous energy. 

This was the first time he had admitted his feelings out loud. His conversation with Dr. Le Deux a few days earlier had been purely factual and hadn’t gotten into his feelings towards him. 

He could feel his body filling with guilt and shame and so many things he didn’t have the words to describe. He had known for years that he was bisexual, that wasn’t an issue. It was that he was lying to his friend. That his friend was comfortable around him and he was hiding a huge part of himself from him. 

His hands were shaking and he ran them through his hair. 

“He’s staying with us for spring break. He’s a good person, and sweet, and kind, and handsome, and so fucking normal and I have no idea why he’s even my friend.” 

“Breathe Malcolm, breathe.” 

He took a deep breath, not even noticing that he had been holding it. He took a shaky breath in and out again. 

“Now Malcolm, look at me.” 

he didn’t want to but he raised his eyes to his father's face. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a Whitly. Smart as a whip, attractive, and extremely and incredibly rich.” Malcolm rolled his eyes. “It’s true! You’re even charming when you want to be. Use it to your advantage! I know I always did.”

His body stiffened and he suddenly remembered that his father had, in fact, used his charms many, many times to lure people to their death. His father noticed the shift in his mood again instantly. 

“I’m- Malcolm, I’m not even talking about that,” he waved the thought away. Like he could just momentarily compartmentalize away from the fact that his father was a killer. “I’m talking about when I met and wooed your mother. I wasn’t exactly poor but I didn’t have all the money and resources that you do. If you’re really interested in this boy, take advantage of what you have. And you said he’s staying with you all for spring break? Anyone that’s willing to put up with your mother for two weeks and stay in the house of a known serial killer sounds like a keeper.“

Malcolm laughed and shook his head. When his father put things like that it seemed so simple. Real-life was never that simple though. He thought of all the moments he’d shared with Vijay, all the hesitant touches and stolen glances. He had never had feelings like this before for anyone else. It would be so much easier if Vijay had other friends, then he could observe how the boy acted around them and gauge what their interactions meant. 

“How do I know if he really does like me back and isn’t just being nice?”

“Well,“ he moved his hands as if weighing the options, “you could always just ask him but that’s just out of the question, right.” 

Malcolm nodded, the mere idea of outright asking his friend about his _feelings_ sent him reeling. 

“We’ve already gone over some of the evidence but I do suppose those could all be signs of a loyal friend. Which isn’t a bad thing to have, I had a very loyal friend, John, who really got me out of some very sticky situations. Ah! I have it. Ask him on a date.”

“How is that any better than-”

“Don’t call it a date outright. Do something special, just the two of you.”

“We do things just the two of us all the time, he came here with me.” His father stood, trying to glance out the small window in the door. “He’s in the car, God why does everyone think I’d actually bring him to physically see you.” His father frowned. 

“Like I said, do something special. Something special to just the two of you.” Malcolm nodded solemnly, his mind already racing to find the perfect thing. “Now enough of that love nonsense, tell me about what you’re learning about in school.”

The rest of their visit was uneventful and filled with light banter. He found himself smiling, laughing even. No one else ever seemed to understand him and his morbid sense of humor like his father did. 

“And Malcolm,” his father called to him as he walked out the door, “ do call me and let me know how the date goes.”

…

The sun was still shining but nothing was brighter than the smile Vijay gave him as he opened the door and slid into the car to sit beside him. 

“So, was it a good visit?” Vijay asked hesitantly.

“It was… enlightening.” He bit his lip, suddenly feeling too shy to look his friend in the eye and give away the plan that was forming in his mind.

...

Ainsley sat in the corner eyeing him as the two boys entered the living room. She was always wary of what his mood would be like after a visit. He knew she had probably argued with their mother for the thousandth time about wanting to visit her father. He wished he was a better brother. 

“Hey Ains, do you know where mom is?” 

“Up in her room,” she whispered. 

He ground his teeth, their mother being alone in her room in the middle of the day usually only meant one thing. He shouldn’t be that surprised. She had been careful so far while Vijay was visiting but the impromptu call and meeting with his father had probably sent her spiraling. 

“Could you stay down here with Ainsley? I’ll be back in a bit.”

He climbed the stairs to the room two at a time. The maid, Rosa, smiled weakly at him as she exited his mother’s room, an empty clothes hamper in her arms. He entered the room without knocking. It was dark, only the smallest rays of light slipping through the curtains. 

“I appreciate your commitment to your job Rosa but -” 

“It’s me, mom,” he called to the lump covered in blankets he guessed was her. She pulled the blankets off of her head. In the dim light, Malcolm could see her makeup smeared, the smell of alcohol rolling off of her now that it wasn’t encumbered by blankets. 

“Oh,” she looked in his direction but not at him like he wasn’t really there. 

“Mom, you promised you wouldn’t do this to yourself anymore.”

“I’ve promised a lot of things, Malcolm. And a lot of things have been promised to me,” she replied like that was a good enough excuse. 

“You can’t keep on doing this to yourself, or to Ainsley.” 

She scoffed in reply. He wanted to go to her. To crawl into bed with her and hug her and apologize like he used to. To find all the bottles she was hiding and throw them all away. To nurse her back from the coming hangover. He did none of those though. He sighed and headed back to the door. 

“We’ll be at Gil’s. Just call me when you’re sober.” He shut the door and dialed the number before he had the chance to change his mind. 

…

Gil and Jackie had been more than accommodating. They always were. They’d welcomed Vijay into their home without batting an eyelash. After a hearty homemade meal and playing catch in the yard with Ainsley to distract her, they found themselves piled into the modest-sized living room watching a movie. Ainsley was nodding off, head resting on Jackie’s lap where she played with her hair. Vijay sat next to him, a little closer than was necessary. Gil noticed, of course, and gave Malcolm a knowing smirk when Vijay was looking the other way. 

He thought about what his father had said. It had to be _special_. When everyone else had gone to sleep and the sounds of Vijay snoring in the pull-out bed pushed next to his bed in the guest room had settled him into a cozy half-sleep the idea came to him. He’d wake up extra early to talk to Gil about the details but for now, he fell asleep with a smile on his face and hope in his heart.

**Day Fifteen, Friday**

The plan was set. Now all he had to do was ask him. His sleeves were rolled up while he washed dishes and watched Vijay through the kitchen window. He was outside with Ainsley showing off his soccer skills while she tried her hardest to steal the ball from him. He was glad he had Vijay in his life to do normal older brother things with Ainsley that he had no interest in. 

“Eyes on the dishes, Malcolm, you better not break another one of my plates,” Jackie teasingly chastised him. He blushed and returned his attention back to the dishes leftover from breakfast soaking in the steaming water.

He had just finished wiping dry the last pan when the kitchen door opened and the slightly sweaty and now grass-stained pair came back in. Ainsley was still trying to steal the ball from him but he held it above his head, well out of her reach. Vijay turned to him, his smile reviving the blush to his face. 

“She’s like a puppy! How does anyone human have this much energy?” 

Malcolm laughed in reply. “Let him breathe, Ainsley. I think Gil was looking for you upstairs. Something about a surprise?” The girl took off, leaving just the two of them in the kitchen. 

“Housework looks good on you Whitly,” Vijay nodded to his rolled-up sleeves and the flowery apron he wore over his clothes. 

“God, could you imagine how mad my mother would be if I got a career involving hard physical labor?” he shook his head. Vijay sat at the table, chugging a bottle of water. Malcolm bit his lip nervously. _It’s now or never,_ he thought.

“I was thinking- If you’re interested I mean. I was wondering if you’d maybe like to go out for ice cream? Just the two of us?”

“I’m sorry, what was that? You said that in an octave only perceptible to dogs.” 

Malcolm cringed. Of course he would mess this up. 

As if he could hear the self-doubt already growing in his mind, Vijay stood and put his hands on Malcolm’s shoulders, “I’m kidding, baby boy. Ice cream sounds great. Is Gil driving us there? Just let me take a shower first.” He winked and squeezed Malcolm’s hand before quickly leaving the room. 

His heart was pounding and he felt light-headed. He leaned against the kitchen counter as the feeling grew from his chest and spread throughout his body. Not only did he agree to go out just the two of them, he sounded excited. Had he been obvious enough about it being a date? He wasn’t sure. But he _touched_ him, he squeezed his hand, and not because Malcolm was having a panic attack but just because he wanted to. Vijay had always been a bit touchy-feely but this was different. He could still feel the warmth of his hand in his and the thought that he might be allowed to feel it again was exhilarating. 

…

**Day Seventeen, Sunday Night**

At Clairmont Psychiatric Hospital the phone rang. 

“It’s for you Doctor Whitly,” he looked up from his writing, grimacing. “It’s your son.” His face broke into a smile. 

“Malcolm, my boy, you did it! Tell me everything.” 


	5. Can't Take my Eyes off of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstandings
> 
> Or
> 
> “Hey, can I call you back later?

The summer felt like it had lasted so much longer than three months. He and Vijay had spent every possible moment together playing video games and talking late into the night before their other obligations took over. They went on dates that they didn’t call dates. They cautiously flirted, neither wanting to push the other too much. They avoided all talk about what direction their relationship was going or if it was even a relationship at all. He was content with what they had, whatever that was. Or at least that’s what he told himself over and over. 

The freedom and lazy days spent together didn’t last. As his college prep courses began and Vijay’s soccer camp started they found themselves spending less and less time together. They kept in touch through the occasional late-night IM and texts but it wasn't the same. Both of them were exhausted by the end of their days. It had been almost two months since they had seen each other in person. He missed Vijay's smile, his witty comebacks, the way he moved through the world with ease and confidence. Most of all he just missed his company. 

Their Junior year would start in just a few short weeks. Mentally he felt prepared. It was school. The academics were easy enough and Vijay was there to help him through the social parts. It was fine. It would be fine. There was nothing to worry about. It didn’t feel fine. 

The unease had started as soon as his courses had finished. Free time had always been his greatest enemy. Free time meant time to think. To overthink. To think himself into a panic. He tried to keep himself busy doing other things, building models, reading, helping Ainsley prepare herself for middle school but now that the floodgates were open he couldn’t get a hold of himself. Which was how he found himself in Dr. Le Deux’s office, chewing at his lip and fiddling with his favorite well-loved teddy bear. 

“Is there anything in specific you’d like to address, Malcolm, or should we pick up from our conversation from last week?”

He fidgeted in his chair, crossing his legs and uncrossing them before crossing them again. Dr. Le Deux looked at him with her usual calm demeanor, waiting for him to speak. 

“I,” he squeezed the teddy bear and put his face against it, smelling the detergent, "actually I want to talk about Vijay," he said it quickly with his eyes squeezed shut. 

"Oh, alright then. Is there anything, in particular, you'd like to address?”

He took another deep breath. 

“I- I like him. And he likes me. Or at least he did before summer started? We were going on dates. I mean, we weren’t calling them dates but we were going out on them and then we both got so busy with everything and I don’t know if he wants to go back to that or if he’s over me or-”

“Okay, slow down Malcolm, let's start from the beginning so I can get a better picture of what’s going on. When did you start realizing you had feelings for your friend?”

He chewed his lip some more trying to decide when that exactly was.

…

Talking to Doctor Le Deux helped. He often wondered why he waited to tell her things and realized it was because he would actually have to talk about them instead of just stewing in anxiety about them. Sometimes it felt easier to stew. Feelings were difficult and messy. 

They had come up with a plan of action. Malcolm was going to sit down with Vijay and have an actual conversation with him. A heart to heart. He was going to tell him how he felt. And he was terrified.

He didn’t know how he would survive another year of seeing his friends face day after day without telling him. The not-quite dating was nice but it didn’t feel right anymore. It left too much unsaid. Above all else, Vijay was his friend, his best friend who he trusted more than he had ever trusted another person. He owed it to him. 

He picked his cell phone up, checking the time. Vijay should be done for the day by now. The school year would begin in another week and he was hoping to set up a non-date before then to talk things out. The phone felt heavy in his hand. He flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes while pushing the dial button. 

It rang. And rang. And rang. While he was preparing himself to leave a message a muffled half-whisper answered the phone.

“Hey, can I call you back later? I’m on a date right now.” 

The phone clicked and he was left listening to the dial tone. 

...

"Malcolm, are you even listening to me?" 

He blinked, looking at his mother as she frowned at him. 

"Are you feeling alright?" She put her hand against his forehead feeling for a fever. 

He wished she would find one. Maybe then he wouldn't have to move into his new dorm room tomorrow. 

"Hm, no you feel cool. Anyway, back to what I was saying, and pay attention this time you'll want to hear this." she smiled widely and he tried his best to actually listen. "I pulled a few strings and you'll be happy to know that you and Vijay will be roommates this year!" 

He fought the sinking feeling in his heart and put on his most convincing smile.

"That's great! Thank you, you didn't have to." He hugged her, grounding himself with the scent of her perfume wishing she really hadn't. 

…

"You okay kid? You're quieter than usual." 

Gil parked the LeMans and turned to him. 

"I'm just nervous about the school year. Junior year's a big deal." He tried to sound genuine but knew his performance fell flat. Gil searched his face. 

"I know I've said it a thousand times but you can talk to me about anything. I might not have any useful advice all the time but I'm here for you." 

"I know. I know," he sighed. He wanted to talk to him, to tell him about everything that was going on but it felt so trivial amongst all the other things Gil dealt with on a day to day basis that he felt silly bringing it up. Not to mention that every time he opened his mouth to talk about it he felt the squeeze in his chest and pressure behind his eyes that warned him that tears were only a second away. 

They used a dolly to move the small pile of boxes to his room. The dorm was more of a small apartment than any dorm the average student would use. A small sitting area and kitchenette led to a decent sized room with two beds, two desks, and two dressers. Vijay's things were already there half unboxed but the boy himself was nowhere to be found. He sighed with relief. Gil cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms. 

"Fine. I'll tell you but only because you'll tell my mother there's something wrong if I don't tell you." He sat on what was now his bed and rubbed his temples. "I called Vijay the other day and he was on a date.” _Don't cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,_ he thought. “ And then he hung up on me. He never called me back." 

"Oh, Malcolm, I'm so sorry. I know what it's-" 

"Please, don't finish that sentence. I don't want yours or anyone else's pity." He kept his eyes squeezed shut. “I just need some time to get over it. I promise if I’m having a hard time adjusting I’ll let you know.” He wiped the few tears that had escaped and hugged the older man. 

“I just can’t talk about it right now. Please don’t make me talk about it Gil,” he whispered. He felt ridiculous. He was too old to be crying over such a little thing when there were so many other actual terrible things going on in the world. Gil wouldn’t judge him for that though. He never did.

“Of course. You can call me anytime, day or night when you’re ready.”

“Right,” Malcolm pulled away, straightening out his clothes. “Now can we get this unpacking over with?” He made a face, trying to ease the mood of the room. 

“Sure kid. You know this would be a lot easier if you didn’t insist on bringing half your library around with you everywhere.”

…

It was dark out by the time he was finished unpacking and sharing take out with Gil. He had expected Vijay to show up at any minute. A mix of dread and excitement filled and confused him. But he didn’t show up. It was getting late and Gil left. He was already prepared for the next few days, clothes ironed, jacket hung. He tried to read to pass the time but couldn’t concentrate long enough to absorb anything. It was nearing midnight when the sound of a key in the door caused him to sit upright on the couch he had been slouched against. 

Vijay's smile was just as warm and welcoming as it had always been. He had grown since the last time he’d seen him. His skin was darker from the constant sun, he was sporting more stubble than he’d ever seen on him before, and had grown at least another inch. Malcolm, on the other hand, was just glad to finally have grown out the last of the baby fat from his still silky soft face. He ran to Malcolm and engulfed him in a hug. He pat his friend on the back awkwardly. He imagined he’d be doing everything awkwardly around him for a while. 

“The team is back together again! And we’re sharing a dorm! Sorry, I was out so late, I wanted to be here when you got here but I’m on the varsity soccer team this year and we had a stupid meeting that lasted forever and then I got distracted hanging out with the guys.”

“I don’t think two people count as a team.”

“Hell yeah, we do, corner table boys forever!” He grinned and Malcolm couldn’t help but smile back. His enthusiasm was contagious. 

They talked for hours until Vijay’s yawns had turned into a sort of roar. Malcolm turned out the lights. 

“Hey, Mal? I’m sorry I never called you back last week.”

“It’s fine,” he lied. “You were busy.”

“Yeah. Still. I’m sorry,” he replied.

Malcolm rolled over, closing his eyes, and wondered if the apology was meant for more than not returning a call. 

…

Things were more or less the same. They shared a few classes and hung out with each other when the other wasn’t busy with any extracurricular activities. The only difference was the stiff nature Malcolm developed every time Vijay mentioned Fatima, the girl he had gone on a date with and texted almost daily. Malcolm still hadn’t asked him how they’d met or what they had done on their date. He didn’t know if he could stomach it. He tried not to completely zone out any time he mentioned her. He didn’t want to be a bad friend. Instead, he stewed in jealousy and spent an ever increasing time at the school’s state of art gym running on a treadmill. 

A flyer on the notice board outside the gym for ax throwing caught his eye and he took down the information. His mother wouldn’t approve but his college applications still required a few semesters of some sort of sport. One that involved throwing a sharp, heavy object felt like it was right up his alley - if maybe a little bit too on the nose. He casually wondered if they would even let him join once they learned his last name. 

He unlocked the door to the dorm, surprised to find Vijay sitting playing video games. Saturdays usually meant practice. 

"Hey! There’s my baby boy, wanna play?"

"Don't call me that," he snapped. Vijay turned to him, a look of confusion on his face. 

"What? Baby boy?"

"Yes. That. And all the other stupid names too." He turned away from Vijay, not being able to stand the look of hurt in his eyes. 

"I'm- I didn't- I'm sorry. I didn't know they bothered you." 

"It's fine. I should have said something before." 

The tension in the room was palpable. He shouldn't have said anything. It was stupid to let such a small thing bother him so much but at the same time he couldn't stand the sick twist in his gut he felt every time Vijay called him one of his nonsense terms of endearment. He left the room to take a shower before he said anything else stupid and snapped at his best friend again. 

...

“Not even a hot dog?" Vijay looked at him with a mix of horror and disgust. They were on their way to their last class of the day, AP Chemistry, discussing the finer points of eating tubular meat. 

He shrugged, "Are you really surprised, 's not like I eat much anyway."

They made their way to their seats at the back of the class, Vijay stopping to chat with one of his teammates in a closer row. He preferred sitting at the front of the class, it was closer to the door, but his hatred of having eyes on him outweighed it. Out of habit and self-preservation, he eavesdropped on the conversations from nearby tables. 

“-Going to practice tonight, yeah..”

“So he passed the ball-”

“-Already made our reservations for the restaurant and my father is letting me take the Bugatti.” the boys high-fived each other. 

“What’s that all about?” He asked as Vijay made his way to their shared table.

“High fives?”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, “Reservations? Something about a Bugatti?

If he didn’t know his friend so well he would have missed the nervous look that crossed his face.

“It’s, uh, Homecoming next week.” He looked away from Malcolm, suddenly very interested in finding something hidden at the bottom of his backpack. “I’m going with Fatima.” 

“Oh.” he swallowed. He shifted uncomfortably. He hoped they wouldn’t go over anything important today. He already felt his mind closing in on itself trying to process the news.

…

He laid in bed staring at the ceiling. A rare moment of quietness. Vijay was rarely quiet. He listened to music loudly. He played video games loudly. He even read loudly, little oh's and ah's that had always grated his nerves. But Vijay wasn’t here. He was out with his mother making last-minute preparations for the dance Friday night. 

He didn’t even like dances. He’d been forced to go to enough fundraisers, balls, and galas with his mother to fill a lifetime. They were boring. Not to mention the forced socializing. The thought crossed his mind that he could go. He knew of a few girls his age that would say yes if he asked. His family might be blacklisted from most events that they didn’t hold themselves, but teenage girls liked the bad boy image that he had done absolutely nothing to deserve. He wouldn’t do that to someone though. He didn’t want to ruin someone else’s night with his jealousy induced ideas. No, he was better off not going to the dance. 

He picked up his phone and pushed call before he had really thought the idea through. 

“Hello Mr. David, is my father available?” He hummed in response, the sound of shuffling, muffled voices, and a sound of glee. 

“Malcolm! I wasn’t expecting a call from you today, what a pleasant surprise!” 

“Hi, dad. I just thought I’d call and see how you’re doing.” He sat up in bed. He didn’t know what had made him think for a moment that this would be a good decision. 

“Well, I’m still at Clairmont so I’m doing about as well as I can be. They installed a new snack machine in the lunchroom so it’s been nice to have some more variety.” He paused for a moment. “Why did you really call, Malcolm?”

He could hang up the phone right now. But he didn’t. 

“Vijay is dating someone else. They’re going to homecoming together on Friday.”

“Oh, my boy, heartbreak is never an easy thing to go through. And the betrayal you must be feeling. I’m so sorry Malcolm.”

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. For reasons he didn’t understand he let his father say the things to him he never let anyone else. 

“It’s never easy for people like you and me. We love fiercely and it scares people off. You’re young though. You still have so much to learn about love. I know your mother and I haven’t exactly been the shining examples of a good relationship but-”

A light went off in his mind, Malcolm felt like he was waking up from a bad dream. _Why am I taking relationship advice from him? Why did I even call him? He was a terrible husband. A terrible father. Does he even love anyone else other than himself?_

“I- I have to go,” he hung up without waiting for his father to reply.

According to the clock he still had at least another few hours before Vijay was expected to come back. He rolled up his sleeves and got busy.

...

The dorm was clean, he’d set a clean blanket on the coffee table of the sitting area. A small pile of croissants, meat, and cheeses stolen from the kitchen sat on it, artfully organized on a plate. He was dressed casually and had stood in front of the mirror for far too long fixing his hair and practicing what he was going to say. He paced and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the sound of the door opening. _Deep breaths, deep breaths_. Vijay walked in, an armful of bags in tow. He looked at the room questioningly before looking at Malcolm.

“You cleaned?”

“I did.”

“It looks good.”

They stared at each other without actually making eye contact. 

“I’m, uh, going to put this stuff away.”

“Okay. Cool. Yeah. You do that.”

He took a deep breath, “Can I talk to you about something? After you’re done?” Vijay gave him a worried look, his eyes shifting across the room. 

“Yeah. I wanted to talk to you about something too. Something important.” Malcolm tried not to overreact. He was sticking to his plan. _He doesn’t want to be friends anymore,_ the vile voice of doubt whispered to him. 

He sat on the couch and stood up and sat down again, crossing his legs. It was only a few minutes but he was near bursting when Vijay came back and sat on the couch a few feet away. 

“Can I go first?” Vijay asked. Malcolm nodded vigorously. Anything to delay what he was certain would alter if not end their friendship entirely. Vijay laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair.

“Okay.” he shook his body out. “Malcolm, you’re my best friend. I don’t think you realize how lonely I was before you came around but the thing is I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

Malcolm felt the world spiraling and felt the weight of everything start to come crashing down on him. Alone. He was alone again. 

“No! Fuck, no Malcolm that’s not what I mean.” Vijay lept towards him and took him in his arms. “What I’m saying is that I like you. I don’t want to be _just_ friends. I can’t pretend that it’s all that I want. The truth is I only went on a date with Fatima because my mom owed her mom a favor. She’s nice enough but she’s not you. I’ve been texting for the past month all about you. It didn’t take her long to guess what was up. I went out with my mom today and told her how I felt. I’m not going to the dance with Fatima."

Malcolm started to laugh and Vijay laughed with him. He wondered if their entire friendship was based on misunderstandings. 

“Vijay,” He said finally when he had caught his breath, and pulled away so he could look his friend in the eye, “I’ve always liked you.” 

“Wait, what? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you say anything!” They burst into laughter again. 

“How are you so dense? What guy calls their best friend baby boy!”

“I don’t know! I don’t have any other friends!” Malcolm wiggled his way into Vijay’s arms, he instantly held him. It felt cozy. It felt right. 

“Hey Mal, I just have to ask, what’s the deal with the meat and cheese set up?” 

Malcolm blushed, embarrassed. 

“My mom always makes a charcuterie board when she has important news to tell us. I was working with what was available.”

“You’re a fucking weirdo Whitly,” he squeezed him, “but you’re my fucking weirdo.” 

...

"Is this really necessary," Malcolm fidgeted "We're going to a dance, not getting married." 

She squealed with excitement, squeezing his shoulders. “Oh, sweetheart can you imagine? You’ll make such a handsome groom one day. Now wait here, I’ll be back.” 

Malcolm sat back on the couch, trying not to play with or mess up his perfectly done hair. He had spent the day with his mother while she ran around in a frenzy getting him a haircut, hiring a photographer, getting a new suit tailored and made for him, and who knows what else before the dance. Vijay would be showing up soon and the driver would take them on their evening’s adventure.

It all felt a little surreal if he was to be honest. Just a day before he was certain he was going to lose his best friend and now he was dressed to the nines waiting to go to a dance with him. He doubted anyone would bat an eye at the two of them showing up together. Rumors of the two of being more than friends had existed from nearly the moment they became friends. People would be too busy with their own dates to worry about the Whitly and Chandasara kids holding hands or even dancing together. He knew for a fact that they wouldn’t be the only male couple to show up, it was an all-boys school so it wasn’t terribly uncommon. 

A thought hit him as his mother entered the room. 

“Mom, how did you know I liked Vijay or,” he bit his lip, “that I’m into guy’s?” 

She smiled and sat next to him, placing her hand on his knee.

“Malcolm, you’re my son. I think I know you a little bit better than you give me credit for. Also, you told me you wanted to marry MacGyver when you were four years old. When I told you no you were so upset you cried yourself to sleep.” She passed him a small box with lavender spray roses in it. “This is for Vijay, you pin it onto his lapel.” She smiled and kissed his forehead. "I just want you to be happy, darling, and he makes you happier than I've seen you in years." She dabbed the tears from the corners of her eyes just as the doorbell rang. 

Malcolm jumped up, a wave of butterflies fluttered about his stomach. His mother gasped. 

"Where's the photographer!” 

...

They finally left the house after a minor fiasco involving Malcolm stabbing his finger while attaching Vijay's boutonniere (he was momentarily distracted by how nice he smelled). Dinner went off without a hitch, the waiter barely batting an eye when Malcolm ordered nothing but sparkling water and Vijay not so sneakily passed him a box of licorice he had hidden in his inner jacket pocket for him. The night had barely begun and his face already hurt from smiling. Their driver dropped them off at the door of the hotel the dance was taking place at. He wondered if anyone actually went to the football game or if everyone, like him, had spent the day preparing. 

They had already missed the crowning of the Homecoming king and queen (Nor did he really understand how they had a homecoming queen considering it was an all-boys school but he didn’t question it based on the fact that he truly and honestly did not care one bit.) by the time that they got to the dance. As he expected it was loud, full of music he only half knew and not one person questioned the fact they walked in hand in hand. 

His heartbeat raced when he looked at the dancefloor. He wasn’t a terrible dancer and after a handful of years of doing ballet as a child, it didn’t particularly bother him to dance in front of other people. It was the thought of dancing with Vijay that made him light-headed. He had spent a good part of their friendship trying to actively ignore the thought of how attractive his friend was and now he was being encouraged to do so. It was a lot to absorb. 

“Hey,” Vijay squeezed his hand, “I can hear you overthinking from here.” 

He studied Vijay’s face for a moment. He was overthinking, he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t used to being happy. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Do you want to dance?” Vijay gave him a look of surprise. He wasn’t going to overthink things again. Not tonight. 

“And here I was thinking that I’d have to fight to get you out there.” 

...

He had naturally supposed that Vijay would be a good dancer and he was terribly, terribly wrong. What he lacked in skill he attempted to make up with enthusiasm. He didn’t think he had laughed so hard in his entire life. The music shifted into something more intimate and romantic, he watched as the couples around them pulled each other close

“Now this I can do,” Vijay pulled him close and Malcolm relaxed, resting his head onto the taller boy's shoulder. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to fully enjoy the feeling of warmth and comfort that surrounded him. He was nestled so close to his skin he could easily smell his cologne intermixed with sweat.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” 

“Are we dating? Like, for real this time?” Vijay rubbed small circles in his back and was silent for a moment. 

“Yeah. I think we are.”

“Good.” 

The song ended and they continued to sway as the strumming guitar of the next song started. It took him a moment to recognize the song and Malcolm felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he heard the words: 

_"Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight_

_Lead me out on the moonlit floor_

_Lift your open hand_

_Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance_

_Silver moon's sparkling_

_So kiss me"_

He felt Vijay's body stiffen slightly beneath his touch. 

"So do you, uh, wanna get out of here?" 

Malcolm picked his head up, cocking his eyebrow at his friend. Vijay was avoiding his gaze, which was ridiculous considering their faces were only inches apart. If he wasn’t mistaken this was the first time he had ever seen his friend look embarrassed. Or was it nervous? He couldn’t place the emotion on his face. 

"Yeah," his voice cracked, "Yeah, that sounds good."

They pulled away from each other and he instantly missed the warmth of the body pressed next to him. 

…

Rather than call their driver or a cab they walked hand in hand through the still busy streets. Malcolm still couldn’t get over the fact that he was allowed to hold his hand, that he wouldn’t be pushed away. 

They stopped at a park bench and sat. The nights were starting to cool already although it wouldn’t be properly cold for a while still. 

Vijay broke the silence. “I’ve... never kissed anyone before. Have you?"

"I don't think one of Ainsley's friends being dared to and almost giving me a concussion counts so, no. I haven't. But I'd like to." 

Vijay scooted closer to him. 

“Do you, uh, want a mint or a piece of gum or something?” Vijay asked, taking both from his jacket. Malcolm laughed and took one of each. 

“So you just carry these around all the time just in case?” He asked. 

“You never know when the right time will arise,” Vijay replied, scooting a little closer, their legs pushed against each other. 

He chewed the gum and wiped his sweating palms on his slacks. He could feel Vijay's eyes on him only inches away from his face. He spat the gum out into its wrapper and choked when he accidentally swallowed the mint. Vijay patted his back and took advantage of the opportunity to keep his arm there. It was comfortable, cozy, and natural. It felt right to be here with him. He turned to Vijay.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. 

Vijay leaned down to him, pressing their lips together, finally. The kiss wasn't perfect, it was awkward and Malcolm almost sneezed on him. They bumped teeth and struggled to find a comfortable position. Neither of them was worried about it though. They had plenty of time to practice. 


	6. Love Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve never spent my birthday with me and it’s Coney Island! No one hates Coney Island!”
> 
> “I’m pretty sure there are a lot of people that hate Coney Island.”

"C'mon Malcolm," Vijay gave him his best puppy dog eyes, "I promise you'll have fun! I swear! I won’t even make you ride any rides. You just have to stand there and look good." 

Malcolm dug the heel of his palms into his eyes until he saw stars. They’d been having the same argument daily for nearly a month. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go with Vijay, it was the crowds and noise he didn’t want to deal with. He’d rather spend the weekend here, snuggled and cozy, ignoring everyone and everything in the outside world. He looked down at Vijay who fluttered his eyelashes at him and pouted. Damn him and his pretty face. 

“You’ve never spent my birthday with me and it’s Coney Island! No one hates Coney Island!”

“I’m pretty sure there are a lot of people that hate Coney Island.”

His boyfriend stared at him, eyes narrowed. 

“Fine! Fine, I’ll go with you to Coney Island. We’ll ride the stupid rides and I’ll buy you an overpriced pretzel.” 

“You say it like it’s such a chore, this is your burden to bear, you must hang out with your cute boyfriend in public and have fun with him and his friends.” 

“Wait, other people are coming?”

“Yes baby boy, it’s a public park there will be other people-”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “I meant there will be other people there with _us._ ”

“You really haven’t been listening to me at all have you?” Vijay looked genuinely hurt by his questioning. 

It was true that he had been a little on the distracted side lately. It was the summer before their senior year and Malcolm had taken on as many college courses as he was legally and physically able to. 

Vijay hadn't been any less busy either. He had already been awarded a full scholarship based on his skills on the soccer field and his grades. Malcolm secretly thought it was a bit unnecessary. Vijay’s family had the money, he could easily go to any college he wanted to and get the degree in business he planned on getting without a scholarship.

He stood up from his spot on the couch and wrapped his arms around the taller boy who was trying his hardest to not let his upset face slip into a smile. He rested his head against Vijay’s shoulder and swayed, forcing him to dance with him. 

“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I’m paying attention now though.” 

“You are an asshole.” Vijay sighed. 

…

He tried, he really did. He kept a smile plastered on his face as long as possible, going on ride after ride with Vijay and his soccer friends. He made polite conversation, ignored the snide comments about his family made when Vijay wasn’t nearby, he even ate a goddamn hot dog. The sun was still high in the sky and he knew they’d still be there for at least a few more hours when the pounding behind his eyes caused his smile to waver. He made an excuse about needing to make a call and found a semi-quiet spot to sit. Closing his eyes he pressed a cool bottle of water against his head. This wasn’t hell but it was pretty damn close. 

Vijay was happy though. He was far more outgoing than Malcolm would ever be. A small nagging voice at the back of his mind whispered to him that would be the downfall of their relationship. The voice sounded suspiciously similar to his father’s. He ignored it. 

He cared for Vijay. Loved him even. His heart skipped a beat just thinking about the word. He knew statistically that a teenage romance like there’s wasn’t likely to last. Even if it did they both planned on going to different colleges and had different careers they were already headed towards. A long-distance relationship was even less likely to last. He would never dream about asking it of Vijay. No, they would enjoy what they had now for however long it lasted. When it was over they could always stay friends. A tugging feeling at his heart warned him it was time to think about something else. Crying at his boyfriend’s birthday party was not something he planned on doing. 

He sat for a moment longer, popping a few Xanax in his mouth and drinking the water before rejoining the frenzy of people enjoying the sunny but not unbearably hot summer day. 

"Hey! There you are," Vijay called, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close to place a chaste kiss at his temple. "My mom just called so we're headed to the spot now." He slipped his hand into Malcolm's and they walked together. 

He tried to contribute to the conversation but his knowledge of soccer was limited at best. He tried to learn more when they first started dating but when Vijay noticed how bored he was with it he told him not to worry about it. It hadn't been necessary for them to like the same things when they were friends and there was no need for it to change now. It was only moments like this when they were around other people that it really seemed to matter. 

He stopped walking so suddenly that Malcolm nearly tripped. His boyfriend's face was one of shock, he followed his line of sight and his stomach dropped. 

"Dad?"

He let go of Malcolm's hand and ran forward, hugging the man standing next to his mother. It all happened so fast, someone was taking pictures and people were pushing past Malcolm. It was a heartwarming reunion and he didn't think he had ever seen his best friend radiating this level of pure joy. He should be happy for him. 

_A good boyfriend would, a good friend would but you're neither of those are you, my boy,_ the voice whispered in his mind. 

One of Vijay's friend's shoulder-checked his way past Malcolm, making him stumble. He looked back at him, "Tell me again Whitly, what exactly do you have in common with Vijay?" 

It had been a while since he'd seen red. Before he had a moment to register what he was doing he had punched the boy square in the jaw, knocking him flat on his back. He was going to hit him again when he heard a voice. 

"Malcolm! What the fuck are you doing?" The anger rolling off of Vijay wiped away every ounce of it that had filled him only a moment before. 

"I'm sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn't be here." He turned and squeezed his way through the small crowd that surrounded them. No one followed him. 

…

It was three days before he heard from Vijay again. He’d spent every moment of the last three days regretting what he’d done. He was absolutely positive he’d ruined every shred of trust his boyfriend’s parents might have had in him. He’d once again gone and proved he was just the weird Whitly kid who had no control over his temper and actions. He could already imagine the things Vijay’s friends were spreading by now. 

When Vijay’s number popped up on his phone he ran from the dining room where he had been pushing the food back and forth on his plate for at least the last twenty-five minutes. He was out of breath and panting when he slammed the door to his room and answered the phone. 

“Hi! I’m so glad you called. I’ve been, well it doesn’t matter how I’ve been. Hi.”

“Hey.”

The silence was killing him. He paced, only the sound of Vijay’s breathing letting him know he was still on the other line. 

“So your dad is home, that’s great! I thought he still had a few years to go.” Malcolm clapped his hand against his face and wondered why words were so damn difficult. 

“Yeah, me too. Apparently, my mom has known for a while and she was keeping it a surprise for my birthday.”

“That’s great. Really. Great.” 

The silence held on for an uncomfortable moment. 

“Listen, Malcolm, I found out what Ray said to you that made you jump on him like that,” _So that’s what his name is_ , Malcolm thought. He hadn’t cared enough to remember it. “You don’t really believe that, do you? 

“Of course not,” he replied a little too quickly. “Of course not. I was having an off day and he caught me off guard and I know those are terrible excuses that don’t make up for ruining your reunion with your dad. I’m sorry Vijay. I know I can’t do anything to make up for it but please,” _please don’t leave me_ , “please let me try.”

“I’m not breaking up with you Malcolm. But promise me you’ll talk to your therapist about it?”

“I promise.”

The tension calmed between them and they quickly returned to their normal conversations. Before he knew it Vijay was laughing. If he could bottle that laugh and save it for when he was in his darkest moments he would. He’d never grow tired of it. 

“So I’ll see you next week on move-in day?”

“About that. My parents decided that it’s unbecoming of a young man my age to share a dorm with his boyfriend so we won’t be able to be roommates this year.” 

Malcolm blushed. He couldn’t say he was totally surprised by the news.

“But we can still visit each other. It won’t be that bad.”

When he hung up the phone finally over an hour he was hit by a wave of exhaustion, the stress, and lack of sleep from the last few days finally catching up to him. He climbed under the blankets without changing his clothes and went to sleep. 

Even though he was exhausted, it was a restless sleep. In his dreams he was a little boy again, running through the forest. He couldn’t tell if he was running away from something or towards something, only that it felt like his life depended on his ability to keep running. When he finally woke up it was still the early hours of the morning. The dreams were happening more and more often, probably a sign he needed an adjustment in his medication again. The anxiety of starting a new medication regimen instantly began to grow, he swallowed a few Xanax to stave it off. He’d deal with it later. 

…

It was more than a month into the school year and they’d seen each other less than a handful of times. Senior year, it seemed, wasn’t going to let them go without a fight. 

Malcolm had found he enjoyed ax throwing the previous year even more than he expected. Over the last year, he had trained and competed in a number of competitions across the U.S. Between it, debate club, and taking online college courses he barely had a moment to breathe let alone any time to spend with Vijay.

It felt like nothing short of a miracle that they both found themselves with nothing to do on this particular Saturday afternoon. They’d spent the first twenty minutes together kissing on the couch in Malcolm’s dorm attempting to make up for the lost time. 

“Okay, okay, cool down baby boy,” Vijay pushed him off. He groaned and laughed. 

“Alright, sorry, sorry,” he smiled, running his hand through his hair. He missed this. He missed it just being them. He missed being just an arm’s length away. 

“How’ve you been?” Vijay asked, “You look tired. More tired than usual.”

“Just busy, you know how it is.”

“Oh, I know busy. What you do is beyond that. What you do is punishment,” he grimaced. “You’re not actually trying to punish yourself, right?”

“What? No,” he lied. 

“Like, you’re allowed to relax, Mal. When was the last time you played a video game? Or read something that wasn’t school-related?”

Malcolm groaned, aggravated this time.

“You sound like my mother. Can we just go back to kissing?”

Vijay put a hand on his chest and stopped him. 

“I’m serious. You’re not even seventeen-”

“I will be in a few months.”

“You’re not even seventeen and you’re gonna kill yourself if you don’t slow down.” 

The phrasing made something in the pit of his stomach shift uncomfortably. He wasn’t actively suicidal but he wasn’t _not_ suicidal either. There were reasons why he kept himself so busy all the time. He stood up and searched through his pile of medication for the half-filled bottle of Xanax. 

“You’ve been taking a lot of those lately.”

He stared Vijay in the eye and swallowed one with a glass of water. 

“Okay, now you really sound like my mother.”

Vijay looked away from him, fidgeting. He didn't want to spend their one evening together arguing but he didn't want to leave unsaid things between them either. He sat back on the couch next to him. 

"Whatever it is, just say it."

"You haven't been going to therapy either, have you?"

"I've been busy." 

"I know but it's important. You're important! You could drop one of your college classes or debate club!" 

He bit his lip to keep himself from saying something he'd hate himself for later. 

"I can't just drop something like that. I made a commitment."

"Well, you're going to be committed if you don't slow down." 

Malcolm closed his eyes to avoid looking at the other boy.

"Shit," Vijay scooted towards him and tried to hold his hand. He pulled away from him. "I didn't mean it like that. You know that's not what I meant. That was insensitive and stupid and you’re nothing like your father. I- Fuck, I’m sorry Malcolm." 

He didn't speak. He didn't trust himself enough to not say something hurtful in return. They sat in silence before he gave in to his desire for comfort and without opening his eyes, curled up against Vijay. He kissed the top of Malcolm's head and held him tight. They didn't bring up the topic of medication, therapy, or fathers again. 

…

They sat on the couch of his mother’s living room. Vijay broke away from a kiss, laughing. 

“You’re the one that stole all of my Pixie Sticks, I can taste the sugar on you.” 

“Damn, you got me.” He leaned in to kiss him again.

“Ugh. Can you guys go do that somewhere else?” Ainsley complained. He dug into his bag and threw a handful of candy at her. 

“It’s your fault we’re not allowed to be alone in my room anymore, get used to it.”

“How is it my fault! You two were the ones practically naked-”

“If you didn’t just barge in without knocking- “

“-and now I’m traumatized for life-”

“We had just got back from the gym, we were changing,” he blushed.

“Shhhhh, settle down children” Vijay yelled. 

Ainsley glared at her brother and smiled up at Vijay. She clearly had a favorite. 

He hadn’t planned on going trick-or-treating this year but Ainsley had somehow convinced the two of them to go with her in full costume. She was Tinkerbell, Vijay was Peter Pan, which left him of course as Captain Hook. He would have complained but watching his boyfriend prance around in tights all evening had been worth it.

They sat together telling scary stories until the inevitable sugar crash hit Ainsley. She laid sprawled out on the floor, wrappers surrounding her. 

“I better go home, my parents will kill me if I don’t get home before midnight again.” 

Malcolm pulled Vijay close to him, resting his forehead against his. 

“I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately but thanks for tonight. It really meant a lot to Ainsley. And to me.” He felt the words at the tip of his tongue. _I love you. Thank you for putting up with me. I love you so much._ Instead he walked him to his car and watched as he drove away.

…

"My parents want to meet you." 

Malcolm blinked, not knowing how to reply. 

It was Thanksgiving weekend and they were on a date at a trendy cafe. The weather was cooling and Vijay wanted to take new pictures of the two of them for his MySpace page. They had forfeited their usual coffee at the lunchroom for the frothy caramel-filled drinks that sat in front of them now. Malcolm didn't quite understand the appeal but a day spent with Vijay and a cup of something warm and comforting had been enough to tempt him.

He opened his mouth, realizing he needed to say something. 

"I think that'd be a bad idea." 

Vijay reached across the table to hold his hand in his. 

"I know. And up to this point, I've been okay with that." 

Malcolm cocked his head to the side, remembering the many arguments about the topic they'd had in the past. 

"Fine, maybe not okay with it but this time is different. It's not me asking, it's them. They want to meet you. I want you to meet them." 

He knew it was a bad idea. He had issues with authority figures, parents doubly so. The look in his boyfriend’s eyes told him there was no getting out of it this time though. He ignored the tension building in the back of his head and fiddled with the buttons on his coat.

"Okay. I'll meet your parents.” Vijay started to do a victory dance and he pulled him to sit back down, “I'm not comfortable with this in the slightest though." 

“You’re not comfortable with anything.”

 _I am with you_ , he thought.

…

He sat at his desk, attempting to finish the timed test for his course on Social Stratification and Class. It should have been easy, twenty minutes tops, but his declining sleep schedule was wearing on him. The nightmares were getting worse. He was glad that Vijay hadn’t been his roommate this year or he was certain he would have accidentally hurt him by now. The words blurred and his head dipped. The only thing that saved him from hitting his head against it was the ringing of his cellphone. 

He answered without looking at who was calling. 

“What?” he asked.

“Tsk, tsk, is that how you answer all your calls, Malcolm?” his father’s voice came from the receiver. 

He hung up. 

The phone rang again. He let it ring a few times before picking it up again.

“What is it? I’m busy.”

“Malcolm, really, what has all this expensive schooling been worth if you haven’t even mastered basic-”

“Alright, I’m hanging up again.”

“Wait wait wait, don’t hang up. I’m only allowed so many calls a day,” his father said. 

He rolled his eyes and clicked on what he hoped was the right answer for the question he had only half-read. 

“What do you want, dad?.”

“Can’t a father call just to hear his boy’s voice?”

“No,” he replied, “you’ve literally never once called me just to talk. Now before I hang up again, what is it?.”

“Fine, I was calling to ask if your mother has said anything about signing those papers I sent her.”

He stopped listening. He held the phone with his shoulder and wrote out an essay answer. 

“Malcolm, are you even listening? Tell me, what did I just say? I’m sorry if I’m distracting you from your oh so important teenage drama.” 

_Fuck_. He looked at the time. He was supposed to be at Vijay’s house in less than a half-hour to meet his parents.

“Great talking to you dad but I have more important things to do than play mediator.” He hung up and clicked out of the test. He could afford one bad grade. 

...

He’d texted Vijay to let him know he was running late and received only an ‘okay’ in response. He hadn’t even gotten to the house and he was already screwing things up. Rather than wait for his own driver to get to the school he called a taxi, which ended up being a mistake. The strong smell of other human bodies covered up by an overly floral air freshener did nothing to help the migraine that was quickly growing stronger and stronger. 

He took a painkiller, one of his mother’s he’d commandeered with the intent of throwing it away but ended up keeping for moments like this. He was fairly certain she hadn’t even noticed the bottle was missing. 

The driver dropped him off and it was only after paying and getting out of the car that he realized he was still two blocks away. He turned to wave the driver down in time to see his headlights turning down another street off in the distance. _Great. Better start walking._ In his haste to leave he hadn’t changed his shoes to reasonable cold weather shoes and was stuck wearing thin suede slip ons. As long as it didn’t snow he would be fine. 

Vijay was waiting outside of the house. He hadn’t noticed him walking up the street yet. The light from a nearby streetlamp hit him in a way that accentuated the angular features of his face and shoulders. He wanted to stop and take a moment to appreciate the artistry of the moment but knew he was in enough trouble being well over an hour late. 

“Hey,” he waved, walking up the steps to the gorgeous old brownstone home. 

“Finally!”

“Sorry.”

Vijay looked him up and down. 

“You totally forgot about tonight didn’t you?”

He contemplated lying but knew it would only exacerbate the situation.

“I did. I’m sorry, my minds been all over the place lately but I’m here now. That has to count for something, right?”

Vijay paced. Malcolm could feel the aggravation rolling off of him. 

“I’m not even surprised that you’re late. Disappointed, yes. Surprised, no. I did everything short of physically sitting next to you and telling you to get ready. I called you this morning!” He stopped pacing and crossed his arms, hugging himself. “This is really important to me Malcolm. Also, you look like shit. When was the last time you showered? Or slept?”

He took the bottle of Xanax out of his pocket and swallowed a few dry before bringing out a flimsy comb and brushing his hair back. 

"See," he smiled at Vijay, "good as new." 

He frowned back at him. 

"Exactly how many of those have you taken today?" 

Malcolm shrugged. He’d lost count. 

"You're fucking kidding me, right? You're not going to meet my family all loopy off your medication Malcolm." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'll just tell them you had a family emergency or something and we can try again next week."

Malcolm bit his tongue in an attempt to keep himself from saying something stupid but it didn't last. 

"With or without the medication I'm still going to be me. They're still going to hate me because I'm the son of the goddamn Surgeon. And who would blame them? I don't even like me." He was yelling and he didn't care anymore. "This was a stupid idea and I told you, _I_ _told you,_ how uncomfortable I was with it."

"Not everything is about you! I met your family over a year ago. I have your mother's number in my phone. What was your plan? Just never meet my family?"

"It's not like we're going to be dating for that much longer anyway!" 

He regretted it the moment it left his mouth. 

"What do you mean not much longer?" Vijay’s voice quieter now and somehow it made it so much worse. 

"I mean, we're teenagers nobody expects us to actually stay together that long," that wasn't what he meant to say. "We're going to different colleges and we'll meet new people," that wasn't what he meant to say either. 

It was all coming out wrong. He wished he could just pause the moment and come back to it when he had thought his words and feelings out. He couldn't though. He could only look into the face of his best friend, possibly the best friend he'd ever had, and watch the weight of his words break his heart. 

"Vijay, that's not what I mean. My words are all mixed up." 

"You should go home." he turned away from him, "I'll talk to you later." He shut the door and Malcolm stood on the porch, snow quietly falling around him. He tucked his hands into his pockets and started to walk home, only giving up to call his driver when the cold had fully soaked into and ruined his shoes. 

…

He replayed the conversation over and over in his head all night. 

"I'm afraid of your family hating me," he told this imaginary version of Vijay. "I'm afraid your opinion of me will change when it's your own family pointing out all of my flaws. I'm even more afraid of them liking me because when you eventually get tired of me and leave I'll lose them too. "

"I'm afraid I'm too much like my father and that I'm too much like my mother. I'm afraid that I'm not enough like either of them and I'm just another spoiled rich kid with anger issues that just get away with everything because of the number of digits in my bank account. "

"I'm so afraid of everything because I love you and I don't know how to say it. I don't want to lose you but I think I'm self-sabotaging as a defense against you hurting me first and I'm so, so sorry that I'm like this."

…

His phone vibrated. 

**Vijay** : Hey can we talk

Of course.

 **Vijay** : I’ll be there in five.

He rushed to the bathroom, washing his face, brushing his teeth, and adding a new layer of deodorant. He still hadn’t showered. It was only the next morning and he hadn’t expected to hear back from Vijay so soon. He tried his best not to think about what that meant. 

The knock on the door came quicker than he expected. Vijay looked tired. His eyes tinged pink like he had been crying. He’d barely closed the door behind him when Vijay started to speak.

“I think we should break up.”

Malcolm froze. He wasn’t surprised by any stretch of the imagination but the words still sent a searing pain straight to his heart. 

“Do you think we should break up or do your parents think we should break up,” he asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. 

“I do. They do too, but it was my decision.”

“Right. Sure. We were perfectly fine a few weeks ago and the day after I screwed dinner up is suddenly the breaking point.”

“Don’t act like missing dinner has been the only thing you’ve screwed up lately.” 

He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see the look on Vijay’s face.

He couldn’t deal with the combination of feelings overwhelming him. He could taste bile in the back of his throat. 

Vijay sighed. 

“Please get help, you’re not well Malcolm. I’m worried about you.” He started to head for the door. The panic that constantly lingered in the back of his mind spiked.

"Please don’t go, I love you." 

Vijay’s head snapped back at him. 

"Don’t. Don’t do that. We’ve been,” he shook his head, “ we were together for over a year and you wait until the moment I’m leaving to tell me? Do you understand how insincere that comes off as? Do you understand how fucked up it is? You’re always saying you're nothing like your parents but you sound just as manipulative as you always say they are."

“I’m nothing like my parents!” he yelled, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

“What’re you going to do? Hit me? Fly off the handle like you always do?” There were tears in his eyes now and Malcolm wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. "I'm leaving Malcolm." 

He sat on the couch and held himself, feeling his body shaking as he cried. He always knew this was how it would end. He would always be too much. He would always mess things up. He would always be alone. 


	7. The Bad Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, Vijay, “he pointed to himself in the mirror, “you’re going to go out there and Carpe the Fuck out of that Diem.”

The alarm on his phone screeched. He groaned, grabbing it and blindly taping the screen until it turned off. He threw himself from the bed dramatically and made his way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. 

“Alright, Vijay, “he pointed to himself in the mirror, “you’re going to go out there and Carpe the Fuck out of that Diem.” he winked at himself for extra measure.

He began his morning routine of getting ready, face cleanser, a touch of concealer, and an abhorrent amount of time sculpting his hair into a perfectly styled coiffe. He was lazily scrolling through the news while eating his breakfast when his phone rang. 

“Hey boss,“ he answered, smiling. He was good at his job and for the most part, enjoyed it. He had been bored to tears working for the treasury and when this opportunity had opened he had happily accepted it. 

He’d burned a few bridges switching careers but he finally felt like he was doing something positive with his life. Sure, that something was usually for the incredibly wealthy that didn’t need much help anyway but still, baby steps. 

He tapped the address into his phone. 

“And Vijay, there’s a body too. Rumor has it the police called in some expert in to check it out. Don’t let him get in your way. You do your job, you get the watches, and you get out.” 

“Got it, no problem.” 

He hung up and hummed to himself before taking a final look at himself in the mirror. Looking fine as always. 

...

He'd seen Jessica on t.v. during the holidays and was in the habit of watching Ainsley report the news every evening. He hadn't expected to run into Malcolm though. New York was a big city and they didn't exactly run in the same circles. 

He was stepping out of his car when he saw him. Malcolm Whitly, the boy that had broken his heart so thoroughly, had just walked right past him without even noticing him. 

After they had broken up he had given Malcolm some space. It had just been a few days of zero contact but it had felt like so much longer. He hoped that they could at least stay friends in some capacity. The blank stare Malcolm had given him when he had attempted to sit at their lunch table and telling him _why don’t you go sit with your friends_ cleared up any questions about how that would go. 

It wasn't his last attempt but it didn't matter. Every time he tried to reach out to him he was met with the same icy stare and wounding words. The feeling of his heart being crushed over and over was a new sensation and it left him speechless. 

Malcolm hated him. His best friend didn't want him anymore. He had ruined everything. 

He spent far too many evenings fighting himself to call Malcolm up and plead for him to forgive him and take him back. Anything to have him in his life again. His grades dropped. He almost lost his scholarship. He laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. 

His mother told him that your first heartbreak was always the hardest and that it would get easier in time. It wasn't a very encouraging conversation. 

He knew he had been right to break up with Malcolm. He needed help. The type of help he couldn't give him. He couldn't in good conscience just stand by his best friend and watch him destroy himself and refuse to accept any sort of help. 

He'd seen it before in his father. He idolized his father when he was younger, wanted to be just like him. Until he started sampling his supply. Watching your father snort cocaine before taking you to the park messes with a person. Every time Malcolm swallowed another pill rather than deal with the issue he felt the bile rising in his mouth. He couldn't watch him hurt himself like that. Maybe that made him weak but they had just been kids. He didn’t have the emotional maturity he had now. 

He wasn’t feeling very mature right now, though. He wanted to step back in his car and drive away. He wanted to pretend he was sick and stay in bed all day eating junk food and watching romcoms where everyone had a happy ending and no one got hurt in any real way. 

He shook his body out. _Carpe Diem. You got this. He probably won’t even recognize you._

_Fuck_. He’d gone and made himself sad again. It had been a lifetime ago. There was no real reason he should expect Malcolm to even acknowledge him. No, he was going to go in there and do his job. He was going to be charming and confident and prove to himself that he was an adult and a little thing like a broken heart wasn’t going to stop him. 

He walked in, scoping out the area, taking note of the marks on the floor the motorcyclists had left behind. The scene was well planned but messy. Whatever crew shot the place up was well trained but still a little green. He made a mental note to call in a favor to a few friends to see what their databases could come up with. 

“Sir, you can’t be in here.” 

He hadn’t noticed the cop in front of him. He reached for his wallet but found his pocket empty. 

He squeezed his eyes shut. Of course. He’d been distracted. His wallet and keys were still sitting on the seat of his car, locking him out. He put his best smile on.

“I assure you, I'm allowed here I'm a licensed insurance investor- and please don't touch my suit.” the cop was roughly grabbing him by the shoulder, attempting to lead him to the door.

_Malcolm can’t see me like this, rumpled suit, looking like I don’t know how to dress my damn self._

The officer let him go and he straightened himself up, “Cops, man.” he grumbled to himself. It didn’t matter how much money or what type of identification he had, they always had some reason to rough him up more than his white coworkers. 

“Vijay?” 

_Well, fuck._ He thought he'd have more time to prepare himself.

“Whitly? Is that you?" He feigned ignorance like he could have ever missed Malcolm's face in a crowd. 

"Actually it's Bright now."

"Of course you do. How the hell are you?" 

He knew Malcolm had been trying to have his name changed when they were teenagers. His mother wouldn't allow it though. It was one of the many repeated arguments he'd witnessed between the two of them. He pulled Malcolm into a hug on instinct and let him go the second he felt him tense up under his touch.

"Is that major crimes?" He switched the topic in hopes of silencing the voice in his head screaming at him, _you were nothing to him. Of course, he's uncomfortable with you touching him._

"Yeah, I'm with them. Special consultant." 

"Nice! I left the treasury a few years ago. With Braun Underwriters now. Unfortunately, we insured this place." He could see the wheels turning in Malcolm's head. He was profiling him, of course. He'd always had the uncanny talent of reading people's faces, their environment. He had always found it fascinating but now he felt raw and naked against his scrutiny. 

"Looks like we're on the same case."

"Of course murder really isn't my bag." Vija shuddered. He hated anytime his job took him near death. "I'm after the 20 mill in watches. That's the job." _Stick to the job. Stick to the job. Ignore how tired he looks. Ignore how badly you want to hug him again._

"Of course. You get the watches back the insurance company doesn't have to pay," Malcolm replied. 

He gave him finger guns instead of an actual response. He’d heard the disappointment in Malcolm’s voice. 

“Precisely,” he said. He needed to get out of there. He’d send someone else out to do the paperwork and pictures. “Ah, it's good to see you, man. Hey, maybe we can help each other out on this. Yeah, two old friends working together. Could be fun.” He could easily pass the majority of the job off to someone else but he didn’t want this to be the last time he’d see Malcolm. 

“Yeah. Fun.” Malcolm didn’t look excited or particularly happy to have run into him. 

“See ya, Whitly,” he had enough sense to grab his suitcase before leaving the building as quickly as possible. 

_Oh good job Vijay, call him Whitly right after he asked you not to. If he didn't hate you before..._

He groaned. It was going to be a long day. 

…

He did as much work as possible on the phone. He still had to wait over an hour for a locksmith to show up so he could get in his damn car and go anywhere. He swung by the office to collect the copies of the information he'd gathered. 

It paid to be charming. He had friends in almost every government entity. He made sure to wine and dine them when necessary, always showing them a good time. It was his least favorite part of his job and the part he was the best at. He came from money, people knew that and it gave them a sense of comfort that _one of them_ would take care of their problem, whatever it happened to be when it arose. 

He smiled his way into the precinct. You could get away with a surprising amount by just wearing a nice suit and a smile. 

“Excuse me, young lady,“ he fluttered his eyelashes at the middle-aged woman behind the counter, “could you direct me to Lt. Arroyo and his team? I’ve gotten myself lost... again.” he rolled his eyes. 

She smiled, the hint of a blush tingeing her cheeks. 

“Of course, here let me show you the way.” He followed her, humming happily to himself. 

…

“Please stop,” Malcolm brushed past him. Again not looking happy at all to see him.

He had been doing alright for a while. Or at least he thought he had. The information he had been able to gather only confirmed Malcolm’s profile. It wasn’t until he had giddily brought up the past and couldn’t make himself stop talking when everything started to fall apart. _Of course, he isn’t happy to see you. He doesn’t need you. He never did._

His smile only faltered for a moment before he picked his head up again.

“This is going to be great. What kind of bagels do y’all got?”

…

He’d tried to keep up with Malcolm but the guy knew how to make himself disappear when he wanted to. He found himself trailing behind Lt. Arroyo. The man was immune to his usual charisma. He had known him when he was still a gangly teenager so he imagined that didn’t help. He probably held some sort of ill will against him since he had been the one to break up with Malcolm in the first place. 

“C’mon, take a seat.” Lt. Arroyo waved him into his office. 

He sat, back straight, hands folded in his lap, feeling like he was a kid again about to be grilled by the principal for whatever trouble he’d gotten into this week. 

The Lieutenant took a bottle of whiskey and a glass from his desk and poured it.

“Aren’t you like, not allowed to drink on the job?” He questioned raising a brow.

“It’s not for me,” he pushed the glass towards Vijay who gladly accepted it, wincing as he swallowed. 

“Do you remember me?” he felt the weight of his self-doubt suddenly. He needed to be acknowledged. Needed to be remembered. 

“Of course I do. You and Malcolm were inseparable. And disgustingly cute.”

He chuckled and took another sip of the drink. “I don’t think Malcolm remembers it that way.”

“It was a tough time for him. And he’s not exactly the best at dealing with his emotions, as you know.”

“Hmm,” he replied. _It was a tough time for me too._

The phone rang on the man’s desk.

“Arroyo,” he paused, “my teams on their way.” He jumped from his seat and headed to the door. “You can ride with me,” he said, passing Vijay, “There’s been another robbery.” 

…

The woman was still alive. He had stayed in the car while the team went in. He'd wait until the coast was clear to assess the damage. And then the ambulance had shown up. When the Lieutenant came back to the car and told him about the woman, shot in the head but still alive, his stomach twisted. 

Vijay didn’t like blood or bodies. He didn’t like gore. He didn’t even like watching horror movies. But this woman was still alive and now they were on their way to the hospital to see if she would stay alive. He wondered how Malcolm could deal with stuff like this day after day, after day. Maybe that was part of why they would never, had never, worked out. Malcolm was brave, he did work that mattered, that saved people’s lives. He just returned stolen goods to the obscenely rich. 

The woman had been rushed to the OR and he found himself trailing behind Lieutenant Arroyo again, not sure of what to do or how to help. They watched on as they prepared her for surgery and began what would be the hours-long procedure that would hopefully minimize the horrific damage a single bullet had done. 

Malcolm came in out of breath. He hung back and let the two of them talk resolving not to get involved until he had anything useful to say.

“The woman is our only witness, what if she dies?” _oh yeah, super useful_ , he thought. 

“For a craniotomy, they’ll have to keep her awake. We can question her during the surgery.”

“Lieutenant. Arroyo, please. This may be our only chance to catch our killer.”

“And get your watches back?” the older man replied. It was the truth but it still felt like a slap to the face. 

“Stand down, both of you. Even I can’t get you in there.” 

Vijay stayed silent, watching him exit the room. Leaving him alone with Malcolm. He watched Malcolm’s face, an idea was brewing in his mind already. 

“What’re you thinking, Whitly?” _God that’s going to be a hard habit to kick._

“Well, you do know who used to be the head of surgery around here,” Malcolm replied, not even bothering to look at him.

…

It had always been interesting watching Malcolm interact with his father on the phone. He’d been witness to it a handful of times in the past. He was a man at war every time they spoke. He loathed Martin Whitly not only for what he had done to all his victims but what he had specifically done to Malcolm. He had first-hand experience of the damage that had been done. He also had to admit that Malcolm’s biting wit and flair for the dramatics that he so loved came from both sides of his lineage. The boy he had so deeply cared for, the man in front of him now, was a result of both the good and the bad he had experienced. Still, it broke his heart to see how much pain Malcolm was accustomed to and willing to bear to help other people.

He watched Malcolm hang up the phone and using the information he’d gained from his father, they scrubbed up and made it into the O.R. 

…

He sent a quick text to his boss and joined Malcolm in Lieutenant Arroyo’s office. They’d done good work together, although in truth it had been Malcolm that had done the hard part. The image of that poor woman talking to them with her brain exposed was going to haunt him for a while. He shuddered. 

His phone buzzed and he excused himself from the room. 

"Can we trust him?" He heard Lieutenant Arroyo ask Malcolm as he walked away. 

The text read: _Do the job, get the watches, get out of there in one piece_ along with a location and time. It was the same location he always used for jobs like this. 

It was funny how quickly things changed. Last week this would have been an easy enough job. He would do what was asked of him without question. Now all he could think about was disappointing Malcolm. 

"Vijay, what's up?" 

He turned, stuffing his phone into his pocket. 

"Nothing, good job in there, baby boy." He internally winced. Now was not the time for old pet names to slip out. 

"Listen, I wanted to talk to you about school." Malcolm shifted uncomfortably. 

This wasn’t the conversation he was expecting and he wondered if “school” was a code word for “our relationship”. It wasn’t going the way he had hoped it to go either. He half blamed all the hallmark channel romcoms he watched. Malcolm was hurt. In his mind, Vijay had left him once his dad had gotten out of prison. He thought of all the good times they’d had in the time between. After his dad got out and before they broke up. Did Malcolm not remember them? Or did they just not matter? Had he emotionally checked out of their relationship months before it ended?

“Well, I have rather profound trust issues. That’s what my therapist would say.” Malcolm replied.

“I’m glad you’re getting help.” He was genuinely glad for him but he needed to get out of there before he said something stupid that gave away his feelings. 

“I’m trying. But here’s the problem. I’m having trouble trusting you right now. Cooper has 20 million to unload in watches and your job is to recover them by any means necessary. You’re making a deal to buy the watches from Cooper.” 

He tried to bite his tongue. It was his job and he was good at it and here Malcolm was, swooping into his life again only to make him feel guilty for something he had already decided not to do. 

“See, this is the old Whitly. All suspicious all the time.” he knew his words hurt and he hoped they’d hurt enough to distract him and keep him from realizing where the drop point would be. 

“You’d be aiding and abetting known criminals, not to mention putting yourself in the crosshairs of a killer.” It hurt more than he would admit that Malcolm so quickly pinned down the part of his job he hated but chose to ignore. 

“I was texting a girl.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, his boss was a woman. “ I’ll see you around.” He walked away feeling sick of himself. _Do the job. Get the watches. Get out in one piece._

…

He was only minorly surprised when Malcolm slipped into the passenger seat of his Porsche. Damn him and his teenage self for trying to show off and tell Malcolm stories that would excite him. Of course, he would remember the stupid docks. He made a mental note to remind his boss that they needed to shift their usual meet up points around. 

A van pulled up in front of them. 

“Gil’s not going to make it, they’re here. You gotta go. If they find out you’re a cop…” He wouldn’t let himself think of all the ways it could go wrong. 

“Dead. Got it. I’m not leaving.” Malcolm replied. He groaned in his seat, would it kill Whit- Bright to have an ounce of self-preservation?

“C’mon. I’m meeting new people. Being social. It’s good for us.” Malcolm smiled at him as he shut the door. Leave it to him to twist his words like that. He tried to push down the feelings that arose from hearing the word “us”.

He put his best smile on and threw his arms wide and welcoming.

“Coop. Fellas. Ready to make a deal?” 

“Mr. Chandrasara. This isn’t a plus one situation. Who’s this?” If looks could kill they’d both be dead already.

“I’m Malcolm Bright. The appraiser.” 

“The suits in London need him to check out the merchandise before they release funds. But I’m thinking y’all still want to make some money tonight. Am I right?” He lied and promised himself that if they made it out of this thing alive he was going to kill Malcolm himself. 

…

Malcolm’s plan seemed simple enough. He just needed to concentrate on his part of the deal. He could haggle, that was easy enough. And haggle he had, but he could sense Cooper getting antsy next to him. He coughed and mocked choking. 

“Do you guys have, like water or something?” 

For a moment he thought he was going to get hit but the man next to him stood up and left the room. He waited a few seconds before he turned to make sure no one was watching him. He worked as fast as he could pin their location and wipe the search. He clicked back to the original screen on the computer and coughed a few more times for dramatic emphasis just as the footsteps returned his way. A water bottle was thrown in his direction and he caught it. He unscrewed the lid and drank half of it in one gulp. 

“Much better, I appreciate it.”

“Now get back to work.”

“Can do.” he went back to typing and turned the screen to the man. “Does this seem like a number we can work with?”

Cooper’s smile was deadly and he tried his best to hide the chill that ran through him. 

“I think that’ll work, Mr.Chandrasara.”

…

He was on the floor before he knew it. One second he was celebrating, things had sounded quite enough on Malcolm’s end but when he saw Malcolm on the ground wiping blood from his lip, he knew they were dead. 

Being pushed around in his line of work was expected. He was used to a decent amount of roughing up. It made the tough guys feel better about cutting a deal. He knew how to take a few hits and act it up so they would, hopefully, pity the poor rich boy and leave him alone. It was normal but Malcolm didn’t know that and when he looked down at him, comically crumpled on the floor, he knew he was going to try something stupid. 

“If you ever want to see the rest of your money don’t hurt him.”

“Excellent point,” he groaned.

“Shut up. Let me handle this.” Malcolm shot back at him.

He was being picked up, taken back to the docks. He struggled against the man holding him.

“I can’t leave without him. He’s my friend.”

“Friend? Don’t Vijay, I know what happens next. You’re going to leave. You have to. I get it. I knew I shouldn’t have come. I knew it in school.“ 

He saw a glimpse of something in Malcolm’s eyes that he hoped he hadn’t imagined. This was part of the plan. 

“Really. You’re going to bring up school here? What the hell does that even mean?” He threw back. If whatever plan Malcolm hatched was going to work he needed to know more.

“I never could trust you. You’re just like your dad. Go. Save your own ass. Get in your Bentley and go.“ Malcolm spat at him. 

If he didn’t know him as well as he did he wouldn’t have caught it. _Ow. I get it, but ow._

“I drive a Vintage Porche!” He yelled back. If he was about to ruin his baby for Malcolm he had to tell him. It was a damn shame. 

“That’ll work too. Just go.”

He took one last look at Malcolm and hoped whatever Gods above and below were responsible for them meeting again had his back. 

…

As soon as his hood and cuffs were taken off he slammed the metal suitcase with a sickening crack against the man’s head. 

“I’ve always wanted to try that.” He took the man's keys before running to his car, starting it as quickly as possible “And sorry,” he called out his window, “you didn’t seem like that bad a guy.”

_Stick to the job, my ass. I’m getting my best friend back._

He drove as fast as he could to the warehouse. 

…

Every second that ticked by a new worry popped into his head. He wouldn’t make it back in time. They’d kill Malcolm and it would be all his fault. They’d hurt Malcolm and he’d blame him. They were torturing Malcolm. Malcolm was alone because he left him alone. He’d never get a chance to tell Malcolm how he felt about him.

It was ridiculous. It had been less than twenty-four hours since he’d crossed paths with him again and yet he was positive, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was in love with him all over again. If Malcolm didn’t love him back, that was fine, but he wouldn’t let him fade from his life again. He’d never let Malcolm doubt their friendship again. Maybe it was the adrenaline speaking but he didn’t care. He felt more like himself and more sure of what he wanted in his life than he had in years. 

He rounded the last corner, pressing the garage opener in time to see what was happening, Malcolm and the taller white guy, the killer he guessed, standing with the woman on the floor between them. It was now or never, he slammed the gas and rammed straight into the man.

If he wasn’t high off of the adrenaline before he was now. He hopped out of the car in a daze and it took every ounce of his will to not kiss Malcolm right there and then. 

“You came back!” Malcolm yelled. Everything was all worth it to see Malcolm smile like that at him again. 

“Of course. I clocked the address when I was making the deal with Coop. Then I got your hint about my dad running over the coke dealer. That was the plan right?” For one terrible second, he thought he’d completely misread the situation.

“Yeah! But I just can’t believe it worked!” Malcolm replied.

“I couldn’t leave a buddy behind “

“Right. Thanks, Buddy.” Malcolm punched his shoulder and his heart swelled. It was the first time he’d initiated any sort of contact and it was exhilarating. 

“And how often do you get to run a guy down in a vintage Porsche!?” He added. _The guys on the forum are never going to believe this._

Lieutenant Arroyo and the rest of the team finally showed up. 

“What happened?” Dani asked, looking in disbelief at the bodies around them. 

“We happened!” he wrapped his arm around Malcolm’s shoulders, pulling him close. “Corner table boys! The bad seeds! We saved the day!” 

A thought came to his mind. “I’m not under arrest, am I?” he asked Malcolm. 

…

After the police had given him the okay to leave, after Malcolm had given him his phone number and the promise that they would hang out, after he listened to his boss chew him out for putting himself at risk, he took a cab home and took a very well deserved shower. He flopped into his bed after, exhausted but his brain still buzzing from the day. Before he had time to overthink it, he grabbed his phone and sent the text.

_Hey Malcolm, you still awake? ___

____

**Malcolm** :

____

Always. What’s up?

____

_Nothing really. It was just a hell of a day. Brain won’t let me sleep. It’s hard to come back to an empty apartment after all of that._

____

____

____

**Malcolm:**

____

____

____

I totally understand. That’s what it’s usually like for me. Awake for hours, too tired to do anything, not tired enough to sleep.

____

____

____

_Usually? ___

______ _ _

____

______ _ _

**Malcolm:**

______ _ _

____

______ _ _

Yeah, to add to the weirdness of the day I apologized to someone and I’m pretty sure we’re dating now. She’s here to keep an eye on me since, you know, concussion and all. 

______ _ _

____

______ _ _

Vijay flopped back onto his bed. It figured that after everything they had gone through, after all the lost time, the day they met again was also the day Malcolm started seeing someone else. He laughed to himself at the ridiculousness of it all. It didn’t matter. He had waited for over a decade to feel love like this again. Something like a girlfriend wasn’t going to stop him from letting Malcolm know how much he cared about him and wanted to be part of his life. 

______ _ _

____

______ _ _

_That’s great baby boy, I’m happy for you. I’m gonna go pass out for the next two days now. Don’t stay up too late!_

________ _ _ _ _

____

________ _ _ _ _

He tossed his phone to the side, smiling. He really had Carpe’d the fuck out of that Diem.

________ _ _ _ _

____

________ _ _ _ _


	8. (Not) A Coffee Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mother.” He rolled his eyes while she fixed his tie again. “It’s just coffee. It’s not a date. I’m dating Eve.”
> 
> “Of course sweetheart, of course.” She smiled before squealing and squishing his cheeks. “I’m just so happy the two of you are giving it a second chance! It’s so romantic! Tell him it’s romantic Ainsley.”

“Mother.” He rolled his eyes while she fixed his tie _again_. “It’s just coffee. It’s not a date. I’m dating Eve.”

“Of course sweetheart, of course.” She smiled before squealing and squishing his cheeks. “I’m just so happy the two of you are giving it a second chance! It’s so romantic! Tell him it’s romantic Ainsley.” She turned to look at Ainsley where she sat on his couch a few feet away. She took a long sip from her wine glass. 

“God knows I’m not an expert on romance but you have to admit, it’s pretty romantic. I mean what has it been - fifteen years? And you two just happen to run into each other on a job where he ends up saving your life? And don’t act like no one has noticed you smiling at your phone every time he texts you. We could sell this shit to the Lifetime Channel.”

“Thanks, Ains. You’re really helping.” 

She made a face at him and he rolled his eyes at her, pushing his mother away from fixing his tie again. 

“It’s fine mother. I look fine. It’s not like Vijay hasn’t seen me disheveled and half-naked anyway. Not like that, we shared a dorm,” he added when Ainsley laughed.

“Sure, whatever you say,” she giggled. 

...

_It isn’t a date_. He had gotten to the coffee house early and had spent the last half hour trying to drill the thought into his head. He was anxious. This was all just nerves stemming from the rekindling of their friendship. It had nothing to do with the way his heart quickened every time he received a text from Vijay. And he sent them often. 

His old friend sent him a text every morning, usually with a picture of himself half-dressed, disheveled bed head and all. _It would be weird not to send one back in reply, right?_ He received texts intermittently throughout the day. Little things like, “Do you still like that disgusting brand of licorice?” and “This pigeon reminded me of you.” He sent replies like, “if you would just try it you would see that you’re wrong,” and “That pigeon is a man of skill and grace.” 

Every evening he received some form of, “Goodnight Mal, try to get some rest.” It was nice. Oddly comforting. It seemed like they were quickly falling back into the same teasing and camaraderie they had when they were younger. Minus the relationship part. 

_That’s what it has to be,_ he thought. His brain associated Vijay with not only friendship but a romantic relationship. After all, he was his first love, first kiss, first, well, a lot of firsts. He wasn’t actually attracted to adult Vijay, he barely knew the man, he was just working through the attraction of Vijay, his first love. He felt more calm having that realization and wondered why it had taken him this long to come to it. 

He chewed on the corner of his lip and checked his phone in time to see the text pop up.

**Vijay** :

I saw you in the window. Parking now. That was you right? Not some other white guy angsting alone?

He put his phone away, smiling to himself. He finished the tea he had been sipping and brought his cup back to the counter. 

“My friend should be here in a minute, thanks for letting me take up residence at the window,” he smiled at the barista behind the counter. 

“See, I told you he wasn’t being stood up,” she called over her shoulder to a large man pulling a tray of croissants out of the oven. 

“Oh, no, it’s not a-” he didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence.

“Malcolm!” His friend grabbed him without a moment’s hesitation into a huge bear hug. “It’s so good to see you again, I missed you,” he squeezed him, still not letting him go from the hug. The barista behind the counter smiled at him, he could almost hear the words the smile translated into. _You sure it’s not a date?_

…

He sipped the foamy, caramel drizzled drink Vijay had ordered for him. It resembled the overly sweet concoctions they used to share together as teens. He enjoyed it more than he expected. 

"What about your family?" he asked. "Since mine has been all over the news. Literally." 

"My mom’s fine. Just the usual midlife crisis. She’s dating a guy two years younger than me but still calls me daily to remind me that I’m disappointing the family with my life choices. Who knows about my dad. He cheated on my mom right after he got out of prison and they got divorced a few years after we graduated. Got remarried and had a brand new family.” He tapped his fingers against the table. “But that wasn’t really a big surprise.”

"I guess we are still part of the bad dad's club after all."

"What?" Vijay laughed. 

He swallowed hard. Vijay’s laugh sparked a feeling of joy somewhere deep in his heart he hadn’t felt in a while. Old habits die hard, he reminded himself.

"It's nothing, just something my friend said about us. Dani, you met her." 

Vijay cocked his eyebrow at him, "you talk to your friends about me?” 

“Just-” his voice cracked and he took another sip from his drink, “just a little bit.” Vijay leaned in closer. 

“I’m guessing that means you didn’t tell them we used to date?”

“I haven’t." It took every ounce of his willpower not to blush. With Vijay this close he could smell his cologne and the sugary coffee on his breath. "I wasn’t sure if you were serious about wanting to be friends again if I’m being honest.”

Vijay reached out, placing his hand over Malcolm’s and squeezed. _This isn’t a date, this isn’t a date, this isn’t a date._

“I really am sorry about how things ended between us in high school, Malcolm.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You were great, and I was a self-sabotaging idiot who didn’t know how to talk about his feelings.”

“We were teenage boys, neither of us knew how to talk about our feelings. And you’re not an idiot. You were never an idiot. I’m just glad we have a second chance to get to know each other again.”

He squeezed Malcolm’s hand again before letting go. 

“So, tell me about your girlfriend!” he reached out smacking Malcolm’s shoulder. “How’d you meet her? How long have you two been together? You’ve barely told me anything about her!”

“It’s kind of a new thing,” he shrugged, “There’s not much to tell. She worked for my mother, I made an ass of myself in front of her multiple times, she found it charming I guess, and now we’re together. She does good work, she’s an attorney specializing in human trafficking.” 

He cared about Eve. She was beautiful and funny and accepted him despite his background and flaws. He didn’t know why talking about her with Vijay made him so uncomfortable. He thought it might have something to do with talking to an ex about his current significant other but he wasn’t experienced enough with relationships to know if that was quite right. 

“How about you?” he asked, hoping to shift the topic. “Are you seeing anybody?”

Vijay smiled but he could see it was tinged with sadness. 

“Relationships aren’t really my thing. I travel fairly often with my job so it makes it difficult, you know how it is, you were in the FBI.” 

Malcolm nodded, the relationships he had were few and far between. During his time in the FBI, he hadn’t gotten further than the occasional fling. 

“My last serious relationship was before I switched jobs. She didn’t want me to leave even though it was soul-crushing. It was safe. Perfect for a family man. I just wasn’t quite ready to be a family man though.” He fidgeted uncomfortably and took a sip from his coffee. Malcolm racked his brain to find something sympathetic to say.

“Well, I’m sure some other family man loved getting your position when you left.” He winced, that wasn’t quite what he was looking for. Vijay snorted laughing and choked on the sip he’d been taking. 

“See, I knew you’d get it! I couldn’t just let myself get old and wither in a job like that. Everyone tells me I was just afraid to settle down and maybe I was, but that wasn’t the only reason. I couldn’t just settle down with someone because it felt like we’d been together long enough or because everyone wanted us to. It wouldn’t have been fair to her or to me. I was right, too, she got married last year. Lives in a nice little farmhouse in Cape Elizabeth.”

His phone rang. He didn’t want to disrupt their conversation so he ignored it, pushing it back into his pocket only to have it immediately start to ring again. He looked down to see Gil’s name on the screen. 

"It's okay, I don't mind if you take the call. It's a work thing right?" Vijay asked. 

He nodded, standing up. "I'll be right back, promise."

"Gil, hi, what’s up?" He stepped outside the cafe, watching as Vijay made friendly conversation with the barista behind the counter.

"Sorry to disturb you on your date, I’ll be quick. We've got a body here that I want you to take a look at and fair warning, it's a weird one." He pinched the bridge of his nose. How many people did his mother tell he was going on a date? 

"It's always a weird one. Send me the directions, I'll be there." He hung up and walked back into the cafe looking apologetically to his friend. 

"Unfortunately I have to cut our date- day short." he hoped Vijay hadn't caught the slip of his tongue. "There's a body Gil wants me to check out." 

"Do you mind if I tag along?" 

Malcolm blinked at him.

"Not to see the body or anything, that'd be weird. I mean, you walked here right? I could give you a ride and then to the precinct or whatever after. I'll stay out of the way, promise. I sort of cleared my schedule to hang out with you." His grin was just as convincing as it had been all those years ago. 

"Yeah. That'd be nice." he tried not to smile too much at the fact that he wouldn't have to say goodbye to Vijay just yet. 

…

They were walking towards the crime scene while he animatedly told his friend about his recent mishaps, momentarily realizing just how many of them there had been lately, when he saw her.

"Fuck." He stopped in his tracks and pulled Vijay back behind the corner they'd just rounded. 

"You see that woman over there?" He pointed. 

"The one with eyeliner so sharp it could kill a man?" 

"Yeah. She's F.B.I. and she hates me."

"Do I want to know why?" 

"It's a mix of things. I'll explain later." 

Vijay pouted and he rolled his eyes. 

"Fine. We worked together, we slept together, and I almost got her fired on accident. She's part of the reason I actually did get fired so I'd call it even." 

"See, that wasn't so hard to explain," he replied.

“Gil would have warned me if he knew the F.B.I. was involved.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He was already getting lost in his thoughts and jumped when he felt Vijay’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, you got this. Go do your job and don’t let the scary lady throw you off.” 

“Thanks,” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Just stay here and I’ll text you when I’m ready to head out.”

He ducked under the police tape and walked quickly towards where he could see Gil and the rest of the team standing when Colette stepped in his way, blocking him. 

“Oh look who decided to finally show up. Tell me, Whitly, why exactly should I allow you to be involved in this case?”

He bit his tongue and put on his best fake smile.

“Colette, it’s a pleasure to see you. Again. I just got the call-”

“It’s Special Agent Swanson. Some of us know how to keep a job.”

“Right.” He nodded, trying to ignore the comment. “Special Agent Swanson. Like I was saying, I just got a call from Gil a few minutes ago. I don’t know any details about the case or the body yet so if you’d let me-” he tried taking a step past her but she put a hand out to stop him. 

“You seem very comfortable showing up unprepared. I don’t know if it’s in our best interest to allow you-” She stopped talking and looked behind him. “Excuse me, can I help you?”

“Vijay Chandrasara,” he pushed past Malcolm and offered his hand to shake. 

When she didn’t take him up on the offer he didn’t comment on it but instead reached in his jacket and offered her his card. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Special Agent, Malcolm has told me so much about you.” 

Malcolm didn’t know what to say so he just nodded in agreement, not knowing what the hell sort of game his friend was playing and only hoping it didn’t get him into any worse trouble than he already was in.

“You brought a civilian to a crime scene?” she deadpanned. “I know you’re incompetent but, _really,_ Whitly.”

"True, I am technically a civilian but I do have experience working with the police, and while I wasn't specifically requested to help said police with this case I'm fairly certain Malcolm was." 

Malcolm bit his lip and nodded, looking over to Gil who was mouthing ' _what the hell is going on',_ at him. 

"Now, I don't exactly understand how all this crime-solving actually works but it looked an awful lot like you were purposely impeding an investigation by delaying Bright here for personal reasons that aren't related to the current case." 

Malcolm was amazed by Vijay's ability to smile just as wide and welcoming when Colette's sneer was directed at him. He continued to stay quiet, feeling like a kid stuck between their arguing parents. 

Vijay pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

"I would hate to have to report something like this to your superiors. Like I said, I don't know much about police or F.B.I. work but it seems like solving the case should be your top priority, right?" 

She grit her teeth and gave them the most insincere smiles Malcolm had seen, which was impressive considering the type of work he did. 

"Fine. Whatever. Invite the whole damn neighborhood to come walking all over our crime scene. Just stay out of my way." She walked away, letting them finally pass and join the rest of the team. 

"What's he doing here?" JT asked, nodding to Vijay. 

Malcolm opened his mouth, not really sure what to say when Vijay beat him to it. 

"Just here to help. I'm going to just help myself by waiting over there, away from the dead body in the plow pose." he made a face and quickly walked away. 

...

He sat in the conference room next to Dani, flipping through pictures of similar posed bodies.

“So,” she started, looking slightly uncomfortable with the question she was about to ask, “I thought you and Eve were, you know, a thing.”

Malcolm groaned and shut the book. He wasn’t going to get anything done without clearing things up a bit. 

“Vijay and I were not on a date, we were just getting coffee. It’s a thing that friends do. You and I have tea together all the time!”

“You never have coffee with me," J.T. mock pouted,"or tea.” 

“Eve and I are dating. Things are going pretty well actually.”

“Hm. Right.” Dani nodded, her lips pursed, trying not to smile. 

“It’s alright, Bright, I get it.” J.T. patted him on the back. 

“Thank you!”

“You only get hot drinks with the cute ones. I know when I’m not wanted.” 

He groaned again. No one was going to believe him, were they? 

He looked out the window of the conference room to see Vijay sitting at his desk, fiddling with a loose string on his suit. He really was handsome. He always had been. While Malcolm had been a thin, fidgety, awkward teenager Vijay had always been tall, sharp jawed, without a blemish to be seen. As an adult, he had only perfected those traits. He was confident in a way that Malcolm could only mimic. Like a jacket that could be taken on and off but wasn’t actually part of him. He was funny and put people at ease. He was still a bit of a weirdo but not in the morbid way that put people off. He was a charming type of eccentric. 

He turned his head, noticing Malcolm, giving him a small wave and another award-winning smile. Malcolm waved back, the heat rising in his face from being caught. 

“Hey, enough daydreaming, Romeo,” Gil called as he entered the room, lightly smacking him in the back of the head with the file folder in his hand. “We got a location.”

…

“Alright, the GPS says it’ll take us fifteen minutes to get there.” Vijay stared at his phone while walking to the parking garage.

“I know where we’re headed. If you give me the keys, I can get us there in ten minutes flat.” His friend stopped walking and stared at him. 

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“What?”

“I remember what happened last time I gave you my keys and I’m not about to have a repeat performance. Also, Gil said to wait for Dani and J.T. so time isn’t an issue.” He held his keys close to his chest lovingly. 

“I was sixteen and if I remember correctly, it was your idea. I know how to drive. I drove cross country all the time when I was in the F.B.I.” he made grabby hands for the keys which only made Vijay hold onto them tighter. 

“And I’m sure you drove those rental Toyota Corolla’s beautifully but this car, my car, is my baby. I already put her in harm’s way once for you.”

Malcolm grumbled and they finished the walk to the car. He clicked his seatbelt in. 

“I would have been able to reach the brakes fine if you didn’t have such long legs.”

“I told you to adjust the seat before you started the car!”

They made it to the location in exactly fifteen minutes. 

…

Malcolm blinked, his eyes were having a tough time focusing and he didn’t quite remember why. 

“Hey, Malcolm, baby boy, you here with me?” Vijay’s face was only a few inches away from his. 

“You smell nice,” he told him.

“Oh thank God,” his friend breathed a sigh of relief. He was holding a phone against his ear with his shoulder. “Yeah, he’s awake, I’ll get him to the hospital.”

“I don’t need a hospital,” he argued.

“I wasn’t asking.” He stood shakily with Vijay’s help before leaning the vast majority of his weight onto him.

“Did I get hit in the head?”

“Pretty sure you did, bud.”

“Does it look bad?”

“Uh,” Vijay hesitated, “my version of bad or yours?”

“Mine.”

“You’re ready for the catwalk. Now come on, let’s get you to the hospital.“

He winced as they stepped out of the building, the dwindling afternoon sunlight still too much for his eyes to currently handle. His memories of the encounter were slowly trickling in. He had gone to ask some questions to a relative of their suspect. Vijay was waiting in the car. The apartment complex was well lit and he had been in too much of a rush to wait for Dani and J.T. to show up after finding out they’d been in a fender bender. The relative was jumpy and he had made sure to keep his back against the wall so no one had a chance to get behind him. He got the information he needed and had begun to walk back to the car when the sudden crack against his head had sent him into a heap. 

“Wait. Did you come looking for me?”

“You were gone for too long. I got worried.” Vijay’s eyebrows were knit together, he didn’t take his eyes off the road. Malcolm was fairly certain he was going well above the speed limit. 

“You don’t even have a gun. What were you going to do?”

“You don’t have a gun either.”

“Yes, but I was an F.B.I. agent; I’ve gone through training.”

“Oh yeah, that training was really helping you out when I found you crumpled on the floor bleeding from your head.” 

Malcolm was silent. Partially because his head was still pounding and partially because Vijay was right. He was reckless. He got himself hurt and he very easily could have gotten Vijay hurt as well. He sighed. 

“I’m sorry. I was stupid.” 

It was Vijay’s turn to sigh loudly. 

“Let’s talk about this when you’re not bleeding.”

“Fair enough.”

…

He had a minor concussion and a decent sized gash on the back of his head that unfortunately required a few stitches. 

Gil was upset with him. Dani and J.T. were upset with him. Vijay was upset with him. The entirety of the F.B.I. (but mostly just Colette) was upset with him. He was upset with himself. He was notorious for running headfirst into danger but this was different. This time he could have put his friend in harm's way. 

He didn't even argue being taken off the case. 

He sat quietly as Vijay drove him back to his loft. This wasn’t the way he had hoped their day to go although he wasn't exactly sure how he had wanted it to go. He was feeling a mix of emotions that he blamed on the concussion. 

He expected nothing more. Vijay would drop him off. He was probably regretting his desire to rekindle their friendship, every time they were together it seemed like he was putting both their lives in danger. Vijay parked the car and ran around to the other side to help him up. 

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re really not,” his friend replied.

It was true. He was shakier on two legs than he expected and Vijay kept his arm at the small of his back as they walked. He unlocked the door and made his way to the couch. 

"So this is your place, it's very-"

"Morbid? Impersonal? Depressing?" He rattled off. 

"I was going to say it's very you." 

He watched his friend's eyes roam across the room. 

"You'll have to explain to me the significance of the weapons you've collected. Knowing you, there's got to be more to it than 'they look cool'.”

Malcolm eyed him. “You don’t have to stay here you know, I’ll be fine.” 

“No, you won’t.” Vijay stopped his wandering and sat next to him on the couch. 

He fidgeted trying to find a comfortable position and finally settled on having one leg tucked beneath him. 

“If you don’t want me here, that’s one thing, but you’re not in any position to be alone right now. If you’d rather call Eve to keep an eye on you go right ahead.”

Malcolm looked at his phone. He could just call her. That was the sort of thing people did when they were dating. As it was, he hadn’t even sent her a text to let her know he’d gotten hurt. He bit his lip. She hadn’t texted him either so she was probably busy at work. He didn’t want her to worry either. 

“No, it’s...” he took a deep breath before looking at his friend, “I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole again. Thanks for staying with me.”

Vijay's face softened and he nodded. 

“So I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Please tell me you have something to eat other than candy and sparkling water.” Malcolm grimaced. 

“I might have some cheese? And some spices somewhere?” 

“You’re killing me, Bright, if we’re going to be hanging out more often, we are stocking your very lovely kitchen with things that are edible to other humans.” 

Malcolm smirked at him, a wave of happiness washing over him as he realized his friend did, in fact, want to continue being his friend. 

…

“How was I supposed to know they weren’t just there for decorative purposes? I’m not the one who decorated the kitchen!” 

He took another bite of the gooey macaroni and cheese Vijay had miraculously put together with things he found hiding among the cabinets. 

Vijay shook his head at him. “I just. How have you survived this long? Do you just eat out all the time? I have so many questions.” 

Malcolm laughed, “Out of all the things to have questions about this is it? Really? My lack of culinary skills?”

Vijay finished his bowl and washed it in the sink before drying it off and returning it to its spot. He sat at the stool next to Malcolm, bumping shoulders with him teasingly. 

“Honestly, I have so many questions about,” he sighed and his expression changed to a more solemn one, “about a lot of things. You really scared me today. I saw you there crumpled on the floor bleeding and all I could think was that you had to be alive. The universe can be cruel but I just couldn’t believe that you were brought into my life again just to be taken out so quickly.” He finished speaking in almost a whisper. 

He gripped Vijay’s shoulder.“I know this looks bad but I-”

“You better not say you’ve been hurt worse, because that is not helping.”

“I was going to say I’m stronger than I look. And yeah, I have been hurt worse but that’s beside the point. The point is that I’m still here and no matter how many times I get hurt I have you to help me get better now, right? And also I promise to be more careful.” He teasingly rolled his eyes at the last bit. 

He watched Vijay wipe his eyes and somewhere deep in his heart he hated that he had made him cry again, after all these years. 

He felt something shift in him and he was suddenly aware of the intimacy of the moment. It was like the fog had cleared and he was finally able to see it. He had feelings for Vijay, not for just the memory of him. After just the small amount of time they had been reunited his feelings for the man had come back. Or maybe he was just allowing himself to feel them again. 

It was unfair to Eve. He knew that when the evening was over he would have to call her, have to explain it all to her. She deserved the truth. 

Something else clicked.

Vijay groaned. 

"Nononono, we were having a moment! I got you to eat food!" 

Malcolm grinned at him.

"I'm about to drive you somewhere to help you do something that'll potentially get both of us in trouble, aren't I?"

Malcolm tilted his head to Vijay innocently, he may have even fluttered his eyelashes a bit, although he'd never admit it. 

Vijay groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his temples. 

"Fine, but you're taking me out to brunch on Saturday." 

"I promise." He grabbed his suit jacket and shrugged it on. 

"We're going to that new cat cafe and you are not allowed to complain." 

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, walking out the door and locking it behind Vijay. 

"We're going to sit in a nice air-conditioned room and pet some cats and eat fancy pastries and not do anything that involves dead bodies." 

"We will, I swear."

…

They stood shoulder to shoulder watching black smoke plume from the building in front of them. A man in handcuffs sneered at Malcolm as J.T. walked him past them. 

Vijay put his arm around his shoulders. He leaned into it, appreciating the comfort after the adrenaline rush and the consistent pounding in the back of his head. 

They gave their statements to the police and the F.B.I. and got their scoldings from both. Malcolm wasn’t positive but he thought he heard Gil say something like, “I expected it from him but not from you.” wagging his finger at Vijay who continued to smile without falter. 

The drive back to his loft went quicker this time. The steady hum of the car’s engine lulled him to sleep. He woke up to Vijay gently shaking his shoulder. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty, let’s get you to bed.”

The sun was already starting to peek over the horizon. They both smelled like smoke and sweat but he knew that without a doubt there was no way he was going to drag himself to the shower before getting some sleep. He yawned, stripping himself of his suit jacket, tie, and shirt. Vijay had done the same and was working his dress shoes off. 

“I’m just going to collapse on your couch for six to ten hours if that’s cool with you.” 

Malcolm laughed.

He took off his slacks and climbed into bed, putting his mouth guard in and beginning to attach his harness when he heard the telltale signs of Vijay shifting uncomfortably on the couch. 

“Is there a reason why you have the world's most uncomfortable couch?” he called out. 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, too tired to argue. “C’mon, just share the bed with me. It’s not like it’ll be the first time.”

Vijay shot up from his spot from the couch eyeing Malcolm. 

“Are you sure? I won’t get in the way of your,” he pointed to the restraints already attached to one of Malcolm’s wrists. 

“I’ll just harness one side only. If I break your nose or kick you that’s on you.”

Vijay crawled into bed with him, settling into a comfy position. 

“G’night Malcolm.” He started snoring instantly. It was impressive actually. He felt his eyes get heavier but he fought them for a minute longer, looking over the features of his friend. 

He cared for Eve - that much was true. He wasn’t going to leave her just because someone else had come along. He also knew that he cared for Vijay. That part of him wanted to curl his body against the man, feel his warmth, and dream in his arms. He wondered what his lips would taste like. There would be time to think things over later though. He finally gave in to his body’s need and closed his eyes and slept for a very, very long time. 


	9. It Had to be You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His life was so tightly interwoven with moments of trauma and tragedy that it was hard to decipher the good from the bad sometimes. The good, he was not a killer; the bad, his sister was. The good, Nicholas Endicott would never hurt anyone again; the bad, he had watched his sister savagely murder him. The bad, she seemed to have no memory of killing him; the worse, he had no way of knowing if this was the first time she had done something like this before.

He was in shock, that much he knew. He was sitting upright in a hospital bed while a nurse checked his vitals. He didn’t remember having his clothes changed but he wasn’t overly surprised to find himself wearing a flimsy hospital gown. There had been so much blood on his other clothes. 

His life was so tightly interwoven with moments of trauma and tragedy that it was hard to decipher the good from the bad sometimes. The good, he was not a killer; the bad, his sister was. The good, Nicholas Endicott would never hurt anyone again; the bad, he had watched his sister savagely murder him. The bad, she seemed to have no memory of killing him; the worse, he had no way of knowing if this was the first time she had done something like this before.

He had been fine, talking and answering all of the questions the police had for him and his sister. He had been the one to call the police. He was always the one that called the police it seemed. He assured Ainsley over and over that it would be okay. They would figure it all out. The words were for his benefit as she was in a nearly catatonic state, only vaguely nodding at him, half humming, half-singing a nursery rhyme he didn't recognize. Her body was limp and the medics carefully wiped the blood from her face. 

When his mother had shown up at the hospital he had answered her questions as calmly and truthfully as he could. She had nearly collapsed, repeating ‘no’ like if she said it enough times it would make it true. She left him to see Ainsley, to call their lawyers, and fix everything. He knew she was upset with Malcolm even though she had assured him that she wasn’t. How could his mother possibly forgive him for what he had so clearly missed?

He had failed his job as an older brother, as a profiler. He had allowed his sister to be in harm’s way. He had ignored and missed all the warning signs that something was amiss for decades. He could have helped her but he had spent his entire life absorbed in his trauma. It was his fault. It was their father’s fault. It didn’t matter whose fault it was because the deed had been done. 

He stared at the IV drip, watching the liquid in the tubing travel to the needle piercing his skin and taped to his hand. As a chronically dehydrated adult, he was used to the process. He shivered but didn’t reach to pull the flimsy blanket over him. 

His eyes felt heavy but he refused to close them, afraid of what horrors would appear. 

He expected Dani or JT to walk through the door at any moment. He didn’t know what he would say to them. They knew Ainsley, they had met her a handful of times, at least. Seen her on TV. 

Gil had to be out of surgery by now, for better or worse. He wondered if he was in the same hospital in a room identical to his own, eyes closed, breath shallow. He hadn't been paying attention to which hospital he'd ended up at. Everything was starting to blur together. 

"I'm just going to give you a mild sedative, just a little something to help you get some rest," the nurse patted his arm. It took him a moment to understand her words and he started to struggle, ripping the IV from his hand, flattening himself against the wall furthest from her.

"I can't, I can't." 

The nurse calmly spoke to him, he could tell the way she moved her mouth. He couldn't hear her over the sound of his own pounding heart. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to take deep breaths but they came out in gasps. 

"Malcolm," the voice coming from somewhere near the door. 

"Hey, Malcolm. It's just me. It's okay," he spoke to him the way one would with a scared animal, soft, low. "Let's just get you back in bed bud." He offered him a hand and waited. He cracked an eye open and stared at the hand. Vijay was safe. He took his hand and allowed himself to be led back to the bed.

The nurse began, again, to prep the IV. 

“No!” he shouted, throwing himself from the bed, he scurried to Vijay’s side. “I can’t, I can’t, please don’t let them.” He felt weak and knew he sounded even worse but he was too tired to care. 

Vijay looked at him with sympathetic eyes before turning to the nurse. “What exactly is it that you’re giving him?” His voice was stern and distrustful. 

“I can only discuss that with family members.” she crossed her arms. Vijay reached and held Malcolm’s hand, squeezing it before returning his gaze to the nurse.

“We might not be related by blood but I do think my _partner_ and I are close enough. That is, unless you’d like me to take this up with your superiors.” he pulled his phone out of his pocket, “what was your name again?” the nurse rolled her eyes at the both of them. 

“No, it’s fine, sir. It's just a minor sedative." 

He tightened his grip on Vijay's arm. He looked at Malcolm again.

"I can't," he whispered. His friend wrapped an arm around him. 

"That won't be necessary. I'll be taking him home." 

"I don't think the police..." she never finished her sentence. A very haggard looking J.T. walked in, flashing his badge to the nurse. 

"Take him home, he deserves some rest," he nodded to Vijay. 

The drive home was a blur. He fought his exhaustion but it was a losing battle. He blinked and they were at his loft, another blink and Vijay was helping him into his bed, wordlessly attaching the cuffs to his hands and ankles, pushing his mouthguard into his mouth. 

He didn't know how much Vijay knew about the previous night, day, or weeks. He wasn’t sure what information the media had already gotten ahold of. He didn’t know who had called Vijay to pick him up. He had texted him when he was released into his mother’s care. It was a short message: _The police think I killed someone. Stay safe. Don’t trust anyone._ It felt like a world away even though it had been less than twenty-four hours. 

He closed his eyes and waited. 

…

_He walked the hall to his father’s cell in Clairmont. His steps were heavy. He didn’t want to go but he couldn’t stop his feet from moving forward. Mr. David opened the door and shut it behind him. The heaviness of the door shutting reverberated in his chest. His father had his back to him and said nothing._

_“Dad?” he called out, reaching to him. He kept his back to him._

_“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I had such plans for you, Malcolm.” His voice echoed in Malcolm’s head. “You were my greatest masterpiece. The fun we could have had. Such a shame. C’est la vie.”_

_His body turned towards him and Malcolm watched in horror as his face, his body, shifted into Ainsley’s. Her face still speckled in blood, eyes vacant. She was in their father’s clothes, in his place, her hands and ankles handcuffed the same way he always was._

_“Malcolm?” She took small steps towards him, the chain attached to the wall rattling louder than possible. “What’s happening. How did I get here?”_

_He wanted to turn from her. He wanted to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. He wanted to cross the space between them, to embrace her. He wanted to run away and never see her like this again._

_“Malcolm, what’s happening?” she pleaded._

_“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, “I didn’t know. I’m so, so sorry.”_

_Her face twisted in anger._

_“It’s your job to know. You’re the best of the best. It wasn’t supposed to be me. It was supposed to be you.”_

_He’d seen her angry like this only once before. It was the same look of rage she had while repeatedly stabbing Endicott._

_“I was happy. I had a life, a career, a boyfriend. I was happy and you came back and took it all away from me.”_

_Her body shifted, she was different now. Just a little girl, no older than six. Blood still splashed across her face, the cuffs still holding her back._

_“You told me you’d protect me. You said everything was okay. You lied to me. I thought you loved me but you’re just like him, aren’t you. You weren’t ready to give in yet. You knew I would snap. You let me do what you couldn’t.”_

_“I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” He fell to his knees, begging her to believe him._

_She ignored him, the vacant look returning to her face as she started to sing the song he only half recognized. He only caught snippets of it. Angels. Hell. She sang it over and over and over._

_“Why did you let him do this to me?” She was speaking but he could still hear her singing. The chains rattled with each of her small footsteps. “You did this to me, Malcolm,” she whispered._

He woke up struggling for breath, straining against his restraints. Vijay was at his side in an instant. 

“I’m here, it’s okay.” he sat at the edge of the bed and put his hand on Malcolm’s. He ripped his hand away.

He struggled to take deep ragged breaths. Tears ran down his face and he hugged his body. He dug his nails into his skin leaving crescent moon indentations. He needed to feel something, anything other than the guilt and shame that filled him. 

“It’s not okay,” he spat. “It’s never been okay.”

…

The hours melted into days. He showered, ate, took his medication. He felt like he was in a dream. Like the entire world was behind glass and he couldn't reach it. 

Dani came to visit him every few days. She never tried to make him talk. She just sat in his proximity, a gentle reminder that she was there for him. 

JT and Tally, along with her ever-expanding pregnant belly, came to see him once. He tried to make small talk but the words died on his lips. He'd found himself staring past them not remembering what he’d been saying only moments before.

Vijay showed up every morning at six-thirty. He made breakfast, made sure Malcolm took his medication and rambled about his plans for the day while picking up any messes that had gathered around the loft. Every evening he showed up at six to repeat the morning's activities. Dinner, medication, a little cleaning. He didn't remember giving him a key to his loft but he wasn't surprised he had one either. 

"What day is it?" he asked. The fog seemed to clear a bit from his mind for a moment. He blinked and swallowed the bite of food in his mouth. 

"It's Thursday," Vijay replied like it was the most normal thing for him to suddenly be talking again. 

"How long has it been?" He asked without clarifying.

"A little over three weeks. She's still not speaking much from what I've heard." 

“I should talk to her.”

Vijay was silent. He looked uncomfortable. 

“Your mother doesn’t want you talking to her.”

He didn't know what to say so he said nothing. The fog in his brain was returning and he felt no need to fight it. 

…

Vijay sat on the couch looking more disheveled than usual. He was tired, Malcolm could tell, both physically and mentally. Spending so much time around him was wearing him out. He wondered when his friend's pitty would run out. 

He knew he was ranting. It had been over a week since the fog lifted for the first time. His emotions shifted drastically from moment to moment. Right now he was just angry. 

"First she acts like there's nothing wrong and now she’s treating me like everything is my fault. She acts like Ainsley didn't just kill someone right in front of me and like Gil is fine, not laying in some hospital in a coma.” He paced the length of the loft, returning to the conversation when he reached the couch again, “I was there, I should be allowed to talk to her. I could help her,” his voice cracked as he started to cry again. He’d been doing that a lot lately. He'd been having the same conversation a lot lately too. 

He hadn’t noticed Vijay standing up but he felt his arms wrap around him. 

“She’s trying to protect you. Both of you. I’m not saying I agree, I’m just saying I understand where she’s coming from.” He rubbed Malcolm’s back in small circles and he clung to him until the tears stopped. 

It was getting late, Vijay would be leaving soon. The thought of being alone right now terrified him. 

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Of course.” His friend gave him a soft smile. 

…

_There was blood. There was always so much blood. The body of Nicholas Endicott laid before him, eyes permanently wide with shock._

_“What did you do?” he heard himself say. He looked up expecting to see Ainsley as she always was, knife in hand, covered in blood but instead it was just him. It was only him in the room, the bloody knife gripped in his hand._

He struggled against his restraints before realizing where he was. Vijay was already rushing to his side from his spot on the couch. Malcolm latched onto him the moment he was in reach. He knew he shouldn’t. Everything he touched he ruined. Everyone he loved would be hurt. Destroyed in some way or another. But he was a selfish man and he clung onto him. 

“Will you lay with me?” he asked, not caring how desperate he sounded. 

“For as long as you want me to,” Vijay brushed the hair out of his face. 

…

They had settled into a strange sort of routine. They woke up together, Vijay looking a little worse for wear after sleeping next to his ever-restless bedmate another night. They did yoga together. Vijay made breakfast while Malcolm showered. Vijay showered while Malcolm took his medication and cleaned. It was all very mundane. If it had been under different circumstances he had the feeling it would have been the happiest time of his life. But it wasn’t. 

Even though the fog was lifting from his mind he still found himself losing minutes and hours. It was frustrating. He wasn’t a stranger to dissociation or depression and the lethargy that came along with it but it still made him feel like there was something fundamentally wrong with him. 

They were sitting on the couch together. Vijay read a book, his long legs curled underneath him, while he stared into space, replaying his time in the hospital over in his mind for the thousandth time.

“You lied to the nurse.”

“Hm?”

“The nurse, you lied to her. You said we were partners.” 

Vijay put down the book he was reading. “It worked so,” he shrugged. “Does it bother you?”

“No, it’s fine,” he replied quickly.

Vijay watched him for a moment before he picked his book back up.

“Actually it does bother me. But not in the way you’re thinking.” 

Vijay shook his head at him and closed his book again.“And in what way am I thinking?”

Malcolm chewed his lip, suddenly nervous to have this conversation. It was inevitable and he’d been carefully avoiding it for a few weeks now. Vijay put his hand on his knee, bringing him back to the moment.

“Whatever it is you want to say, Malcolm, it’s not going to change my opinion of you.”

He wrung his hands and tried to calm his already shaky breathing. 

“I don’t want your pity,” he looked everywhere but his friends' face. “I know you’re just here because you feel bad for me. You’re a good person. You’ve always been-” his voice cracked and he felt the telltale signs of tears to come. “You’ve always been too good for me. As a friend. As a boyfriend. You don’t gain anything from being friends with me.”

“You can’t really-” he felt Vijay scoot closer to him, “Fuck, you really do believe that don’t you? Malcolm, I don’t pity you. I’ve never pitied you. I don’t spend all this time with you because of some sense of moral superiority. I don’t do this to win any sort of good guy awards.”

“Why do you spend so much time with me then?” He met Vijay’s eyes finally. 

“I think you already know why.”

He shook his head.

“Any feelings you have for me can’t be real. They’re just remnants of our teenage years. I’m not the same person I was then. I’m not a good person. Everyone around me gets hurt. I couldn’t even protect Ainsley.” He was crying now but the words kept on coming. "I know it's all my fault. I could have done something. I should have done something." 

Vijay wordlessly pulled him close to lay his head against his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Now that he started he couldn't stop crying. 

"I was supposed to protect her. It was supposed to be me." 

"I know you won't believe me but it isn't your fault. You did protect her, as much as you could. It's not your fault." He repeated it like a mantra. 

And he was right, Malcolm didn't believe it. 

"You're a good man Malcolm. All of this started when you were just a kid. You had no control over what happened. What your father and John Watkins did is unforgivable and whatever part you played in any of it wasn't your fault because you were a literal child."

"Your father drugged you, coerced you, and lied to you over and over. That would fuck anyone up. I know you tried your best to protect your sister but you had to protect yourself too. It isn't your fault. None of this is." 

"I wanted to kill him. I use people. I lie to people. I used my knowledge of Watkins’s fears against him." he laughed, feeling frantic and relieved to finally admit it out loud. "I psychologically tortured an already troubled mind on purpose. Good people don't do things like that but it comes to me naturally." 

"It comes to you naturally because your father raised you to think that way from the moment you were born. Every time you've done something _bad_ it's been to protect someone, help someone, or save a life. And if other people think that makes you bad I don't care!"

“And before you start up again with that ‘ _you’re too good for me’_ nonsense let me finish.” He pulled Malcolm away from where he was curled up to him, holding him by the shoulders a frantic sort of searching in his eyes. "I don't care what other people think about you. I don’t care what people think about _us_. I never have. I know you're a good man even if you can't see it in yourself. Nothing anyone, including you, says is going to change that." 

He knew it wasn't the right time or place. He knew his eyes were bloodshot and they were both exhausted and the world around him was crumbling. He lurched forward and kissed Vijay and hoped with all his might that he wouldn't be rejected. 

Vijay was still for a moment before returning the kiss and Malcolm felt the arms wrapped around him pull him closer until he was straddled on him, knees on either side of his hips. He'd spent so long lying to himself that he didn't miss this but the desperate whine he made when Vijay pulled away destroyed any doubt in his mind. He wanted this. He wanted him. He had never stopped wanting him. 

He rested his head against Vijay's, his eyes closed. He breathed deep, the warm cologne tickling his nose. 

"I know this isn't the right time, I'm sorry," he apologized. Vijay's hand made it up to his neck, his hair, and pulled him into another kiss. 

Vijay smiled, it was sad and soft, so different from his usual joyful face. 

"There's never going to be a fairy tale perfect time. Not for us. But I don't want perfect, I just want you."

…

He was half asleep, more cozy and comfortable than he had felt in a very long time when he felt his phone buzz. He wiggled out of Vijay's arms to reach the phone, answering it when he saw Dani's name flash across the screen. 

"Hey, what's going on?" 

"It's Gil," she replied. He bolted straight up. "He's awake and he's asking for you." he could hear the happy tears in her voice. "I tried calling Vijay but it went straight to voicemail. I can come pick you up if you need me to." 

"He's here with me. We'll be there as fast as we can." 

"Good - and Malcolm, be safe," she hung up and he shook Vijay awake. 

…

He held Vijay's hand as they walked through the hospital. Even with the happiness of knowing Gil was finally awake, he was still filled with dread by the smell of the clean, sanitized halls. 

They exited an elevator to see Dani, JT, and his mother already there. His mother ran to him, hugging him while she cried, repeating _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,_ over and over. 

"I know mom. It's okay. We'll get through this." He took Vijay's hand in his again, squeezing it to anchor himself and not get lost in his doubts.

Dani walked closer to them, keeping her voice quieter than his mother had. 

"The doctor's are just running a few tests, you should be able to go in, in a minute. You look better." She quickly looked at them hand in hand and smiled at him. "This has been hard for all of us, especially you because of Ainsley. I know we can't understand what you're going through, but we're here for you Bright." 

He nodded but said nothing, tears already filling his eyes. He believed her. 

It felt like hours when the door finally opened and the doctor walked out. 

"I'll be back to discuss everything in more detail but suffice it to say that he's looking better than anticipated. Excuse me."

"Your turn." Dani held the door for him. 

"Will you come with me?" He asked Vijay, clinging to him harder. 

"Always," he replied. 

They walked in together to see his oldest friend smiling up at him. 

"Hey, kid."


	10. Epilogue: Last Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Knock, Knock,” the familiar voice called from beyond his door. He opened it, an inquisitive smile on his face. 
> 
> “I thought we weren’t allowed to see each other until-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been such an adventure writing this over the past few months. Again, thank you to everyone who has helped me along the way. This may be the last chapter of this story but I still have plenty of other stories of these two bursting to be told.

“Knock, Knock,” the familiar voice called from beyond his door. He opened it, an inquisitive smile on his face. 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to see each other until-”

“Baby boy, when have we ever held to tradition?” Vijay leaned forward taking a soft kiss from his lips. He smiled, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulled him down for another. 

“True. I’m just surprised you snuck passed my mother’s security guard.” He laughed.

“Gil is the least intimidating guard on the planet. He was easily swayed by fresh-baked muffins.” Vijay opened his bag to reveal a tea towel carefully wrapping the still-warm muffins; he offered one to Malcolm.

“You bake when you’re stressed. Not that I’m complaining,” he added, taking a bite, “but concerned. Are you stressed? Having last-minute doubts?” he tried to sound nonchalant but knew Vijay heard the honest worry in his voice. He always did. 

“Not really stressed as much as excited. Anxious, but not in a bad way. You’re not?”

Malcolm reached out to wipe a crumb from the man’s cheek. His heart was full and near bursting with affection. 

He took Vijay’s hand in his own, threading their fingers together.

“I’m always anxious. I’m always stressed. I’m always worried about something. But not about this and not about you.” He watched the tension melt from Vijay’s shoulders and his smile turn to the one that had won his heart over all those years ago. 

He kissed him again, tasting the cinnamon and sweetness of the muffin on his tongue. 

"I guess we better get ready, we wouldn't want to be late for our own wedding." 

He grinned. "We could probably be a little late.".

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[ART] Corner Table Boys Forever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209653) by [Leif Writes (FrankensteinsMomster)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankensteinsMomster/pseuds/Leif%20Writes), [prodigalsanyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prodigalsanyo/pseuds/prodigalsanyo)




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